Since March 6, the Syrian coast has witnessed horrific sectarian massacres—violence that many of us had naively believed Syria had moved past, setting its feet on a new path after ridding itself of a regime of massacres. The outbreak of this bloodshed began with an ambush carried out by remnants of the former regime against a General Security patrol, resulting in the deaths of all its members. The sectarian massacres that followed were accompanied by a series of treacherous, coordinated ambushes—luring security patrols with false distress calls, only to attack the reinforcements that arrived in response. These acts were perpetrated by politically and morally bankrupt individuals, even in the eyes of many within the Alawite community. Reports indicate that these attacks claimed the lives of between 100 and 150 General Security officers.
The Alawite community did not endorse these assaults on public security forces—forces that many Alawites, rather than the remnants of the old regime, had come to rely on for protection against extremist militias. Nor did Alawite youth align themselves with the criminal elements seeking to destabilize the country in a desperate bid to evade accountability. They did not sacrifice themselves in an attempt to resurrect a regime that had already been dead before its fall, nor to defend the fugitive remnants of its power. Yet death found them in their homes, even after those among them who had weapons had surrendered them to the new authorities, leaving them completely defenseless. This is evident in the fact that none of the extremist factions suffered harm, while entire families were executed—subjected to humiliation, torture, and murder by perpetrators who openly voiced sectarian hatred. Moving from village to village, they operated in a manner eerily reminiscent of the torture rounds in Tadmor Prison, where inmates would hear the distant cries of victims growing closer, knowing that their own turn was imminent.
The vast majority of Alawites welcomed the new government, and there were no incidents of hostility toward the forces filling the power vacuum left by the fallen state. One family that was massacred had previously shared photos celebrating the regime’s downfall—dancing, raising victory signs, and wrapping themselves in the green flag. Social media was flooded with posts highlighting the patriotism of one young victim, a revolutionary whose mother, in a widely circulated image, stood defiant against accusations of betrayal leveled at her by those steeped in treachery themselves.
However, the Alawite community’s initial support for the new authorities has since waned, and their hope has begun to dim. What were initially dismissed as “isolated violations” soon proved to be preludes to full-scale massacres.
A Pattern of Violence Ignored
The three months leading up to the sectarian massacres were marked by repeated attacks and violations against Alawite civilians. Some incidents—such as the Fahel massacre in late January and the Arza massacre in early February—served as grim rehearsals for the atrocities that followed. Yet many sought to downplay these violations, urging patience with the new authorities. “We expected horrific massacres, but they haven’t happened,” they reassured themselves, subscribing to a logic that normalizes injustice by comparing it to something even worse. But when there is no limit to brutality, this kind of reasoning only leads to further submission.
This does not mean that those who once dismissed these crimes as “individual transgressions” are incapable of rejecting the current reality. They do reject it—but selectively, in a manner untethered to any consistent principles or values. Those who once ignored the massacres of the past now condemn today’s atrocities, just as those who once condemned past crimes now turn a blind eye to the present ones. This cyclical moral failure is one of the fundamental flaws in our political culture—one that keeps us trapped in an endless cycle of tyranny and bloodshed.
The Dangerous Consequences of Justification and Silence
The immoral stance taken by those who justified the violations against innocent Alawite civilians—dismissing them as “isolated incidents” rather than part of a broader policy—was one of the key factors that enabled the subsequent massacres. Those who sought to suppress these reports in the name of “state-building,” as if denying reality would serve some higher political wisdom, share responsibility for the outcome. Their complicity has contributed to the emergence of yet another sectarian state—one that mirrors its predecessor and ultimately undermines the very concept of the state itself.
A State Built on Bloodshed
The same so-called “wise men” who once justified the crimes of the old regime against its opponents—claiming it was necessary to preserve the state—now use the same rationale to justify the crimes of the new authorities. But what kind of state sanctions or condones the mass killing and humiliation of its own people? Do they truly believe that our only choices are between a repressive state that preys on its citizens and complete anarchy?
The reality is that these individuals have resigned themselves to servitude, whether to the old regime or to new power brokers. Their opposition to authority is not driven by principle, but by opportunism—serving one master until a new one emerges.
A Nation Caught in a Cycle of Destruction
In our part of the world, destruction and death accumulate, while enlightened political and intellectual efforts are scattered to the wind, leaving those who champion them powerless in the face of advancing barbarism. Syria remains vulnerable to the rise of violent mobs who now commit the same atrocities they once claimed to oppose.
In a country that once rose up for “dignity and freedom”—and paid a heavy price for having tolerated a regime built on discrimination, monopoly, and violence—streets that once echoed with calls for liberty now ring with chants of “exterminate the Alawites.”
How did those who once championed revolution become the executioners of today?
Nothing noble seems to endure in this land, where each calamity sets the stage for the next. The same people who once sacrificed for justice now hesitate to condemn crimes that bear striking resemblance to the ones they themselves suffered. The same voices that once tirelessly refuted Assad’s lies now repeat falsehoods just as absurd.
Syria’s tragedy is not merely in its bloodshed, but in its failure to break free from a history of oppression—where every revolution births a new tyranny.
Rateb Shabo is a Syrian physician and writer born in 1963. He spent 16 years in detention in Syria.
This article was translated and edited by The Syrian Observer. The Syrian Observer has not verified the content of this story. Responsibility for the information and views set out in this article lies entirely with the author.
