After Assad: Syria’s real battle has just begun

To those worried about Syria’s future now that Bashar al-Assad has fled after fifty-four years of authoritarian rule, it is important to take a closer look at the roots of these concerns. What exactly is the fear? Is it the potential for chaos in a country already torn apart by war, where sectarian militias and foreign powers have caused unimaginable destruction? Or is it the prospect of instability in a nation where half the population has been displaced, and those who remain have endured imprisonment, loss, and the struggle to survive? The truth is, chaos is not a distant threat for Syria –  it has been its grim reality for over a decade.

Much of that fear, however, did not emerge with Assad’s departure, as the regime thrived on insecurity, transforming difference into suspicion and dependence. Against this history, the lament over “losing Syria” demands reconsideration. Consequently, the idea of sectarian violence deserves deeper examination, as sectarianism in Syria was never spontaneous. The regime weaponised it, sparing no one from its brutality, regardless of religion or sect. It relied on militias from Iran, Lebanon, Iraq, and Afghanistan to suppress its own people, and we have seen that from Houla to Ghouta, from Idlib to Daraa, its crimes left scars on every community. Druze detainees, Christian martyrs, Muslim prisoners, and Alawite dissidents all became victims of a strategy designed to divide and conquer, leaving no one untouched. Against this background, when people speak of “losing Syria,” the question becomes more complex. Which Syria is being lost? The one where families were stripped of bread, water, and electricity, or the one where millions were driven from their homes and reduced to nameless figures in overcrowded refugee camps? That Syria was already broken, fragmented, and exploited while the world stood by. Understanding this enduring fear requires viewing it as a form of collective memory rather than an isolated emotion. It is the residue of decades of violence and dispossession that continue to shape social life. Recovery from such experience is rarely a singular or spectacular event, it is sustained through the quiet, ordinary labours by which individuals and communities rebuild the texture of daily existence.

READ: Syria’s post-conflict reconstruction to cost at least $216B: World Bank

The scale of humanitarian need remains vast. More than 16.7 million people -around 71 per cent of the population – require assistance, about 7.2 million are internally displaced, and roughly 6.2 million live as refugees abroad. Meanwhile, around 1 million Syrians have returned since Assad’s fall. Yet despite this, forms of reconstruction have emerged from within. Local recovery initiatives in Homs, Daraa, and Idlib have begun to restore social life through community-driven projects, many supported by NGOs and UN agencies. UNDP’s 2025 early recovery assessments report that neighbourhood committees, women’s cooperatives, and small-scale livelihood projects have re-established markets and informal schools in conflict-affected areas. Similarly, the Norwegian Refugee Council documents community mediation councils, informal education programs, and cash-for-work schemes that have strengthened social trust and reduced dependence on external aid in southern and northwestern Syria. These initiatives represent “small economies of trust”, quiet, cumulative acts of cooperation that reject dependency and demonstrate that collective order can be rebuilt without reproducing the hierarchies of the past.

© Wassem Sas, From the vigil of the International Day of Disappeared Persons in Qasria-Damascus 2025/August

Nevertheless, structural and political challenges persist. The 5 October 2025 parliamentary elections, widely publicised as Syria’s democratic rebirth, revealed the limits of institutional change. Women hold about 9.6 per cent of seats, two Christians were elected, and many districts – especially Kurdish and Druze areas – were excluded or postponed due to insecurity. At the same time, the Syrian Democratic Forces continue to advocate for federal autonomy in the northeast , while the interim government, led by President Ahmed al Sharaa struggles to consolidate legitimacy across fragmented regions. This is the paradox common to many post-authoritarian transitions: new forms of representation coexist with entrenched inequality. As a result, structures of power continue to reproduce themselves beneath the vocabulary of reform, shaping political behaviour even as it claims to transcend the past.

This persistence of hierarchy does not arise in a vacuum. Decades of internal colonisation have produced it. The former regime ruled through the logic of domination turned inward – the subjugation of one’s own population through hierarchy and fear. Consequently, dependence came to feel safer than autonomy. To move beyond that condition, Syria must pursue a process of decolonisation from within: dismantling not only the regime’s institutions but also the social and epistemic assumptions that sustained them. Even after political liberation, inherited hierarchies endure through control over knowledge, representation, and economic opportunity. Syria’s reconstruction must therefore avoid reproducing dependency on donors, foreign militaries, or centralised bureaucracies. Instead, it should ground sovereignty in lived moral frameworks that guide daily cooperation.

READ: Syria seeks to strengthen, restore ties with Russia: President Sharaa

This principle was tested when interim president Sharaa visited Moscow on 15 October 2025 to “redefine” relations with Russia. His statement, though, was less a diplomatic gesture than a test of autonomy. True sovereignty would not therefore be achieved through new alliances but through reclaiming the authority to define Syria’s priorities from within. This involves listening to the knowledge already embedded in local councils, agricultural cooperatives, and displaced communities instead of importing ready-made templates of governance or development. UNDP field assessments in 2025 highlight that locally led recovery projects in governorates such as Hama and Aleppo demonstrate stronger community engagement and legitimacy than externally designed programs. These findings illustrate that meaningful recovery emerges from practices of mutual responsibility and simple acts of care, teaching, and collective rebuilding carried out within the limits of displacement and scarcity. Syria’s future could therefore rely less on formal institutions than on these embedded networks of everyday ethical labour that quietly re-create social trust.

Moreover, the moral reconstruction of Syria depends on how the country remembers. For instance, remnants of the old security apparatus have attempted to relocate mass graves to erase evidence of state crimes. Yet memory cannot be erased. Communities heal by reintegrating violence into the texture of the everyday, transforming remembrance into accountability. Syrian-led initiatives that collect testimonies, mark burial sites, and preserve archives of the disappeared thus form the foundation of justice. Ultimately, sovereignty resides in the ability of a teacher to reopen a classroom, a farmer to irrigate his land, and a mother to register her child without fear. By reclaiming the language of self-definition, Syrians are already engaged in that act – naming their future on their own terms and reasserting a political imagination shaped not by survival alone but by dignity.

Fear, then, should not paralyse this moment. If Syria’s past has taught us anything, it is that turning away from this opportunity risks repeating the same cycle of oppression and loss. Fear is a natural response to uncertainty, but hope must lead the way. For the first time in decades, Syria has a chance to belong to its people. This is a rare, pivotal moment to reclaim sovereignty, rebuild trust, and lay the foundation for a more just and equitable future. It is a moment that cannot afford to be wasted.

The views expressed in this article belong to the author and do not necessarily reflect the editorial policy of Middle East Monitor.