Social media platforms have become mirrors reflecting a deeply troubling fracture within Syrian society—one arguably more dangerous than the polarisation witnessed during the early years of the revolution, when the country split between supporters of Bashar al-Assad and those who rejected his brutal dictatorship. Today, the division runs deeper, no longer confined to political allegiance. It has seeped into the very fabric of identity—sectarian, religious, and ethnic—echoing the kind of fragmentation that has sparked civil wars in other parts of the world.
A Threat to the Revolution’s Legacy
This polarisation does more than endanger Syria’s present; it strikes at the heart of the revolution’s original dream—a nation for all Syrians. The current trajectory points toward a potential civil conflict so indiscriminate and devastating that it would make no distinction between sects or faiths. Everyone would be a casualty. What makes the situation all the more dire is its spillover beyond Syria’s borders. In recent days, videos have surfaced of Syrian-on-Syrian altercations in the German city of Düsseldorf, prompted by the violence in Suweida. Earlier clashes erupted following the massacres along the coast, and now the Kurdish community expresses growing anxiety that it may soon be next.
If this polarisation is not confronted by rational discourse, collective awareness, and moral courage—especially from influential voices—it could very well shatter what remains of Syrian unity. The dream of a pluralistic homeland may morph into a sectarian nightmare, inherited by generations to come in place of a shared nation.
Spectacles of Brutality
It is almost inconceivable—the level of savagery and psychological derangement required for perpetrators of mass atrocities to record their crimes and broadcast them. As if to revel in the carnage or to instill terror, they document the execution of unarmed civilians, young men thrown from balconies, a man shot dead while crying out, “I am Syrian.” Sacred figures and national symbols are desecrated, theft is conducted openly before cameras, and families are driven from their homes in scenes that recall Assad-era displacement. Tribes rally to defend others not out of justice, but based on sectarian affinity.
All of this—the humiliation, the killings, the looting—is meticulously documented by the criminals themselves. What message are they trying to send? Is this a calculated warning to the rest of Syria? A collective punishment designed to terrorise an entire society through unforgettable images?
This is not a case of isolated actors or lone anomalies. These criminals operate either under the protection of the new authorities or beyond their reach—but in either case, they pose a grave threat to Syria’s already fragile social fabric. Unless held accountable, the new leadership risks complicity in the very crimes it once pledged to end.
Ranking Bloodshed
Even more disturbing than the crimes themselves is the behaviour now rampant on social media—Syrians weighing one massacre against another. Debates rage over whether the atrocities committed against the Druze in Suweida were more savage than those targeting the Bedouins. As if murder can be quantified. As if solidarity must be earned by exceeding a certain threshold of violence. Anything below that line becomes dismissible—collateral, forgettable.
A growing number of commentators, and indeed inciters, have become addicted to these images of death. They consume and dissect them like cinematic content or numerical data—stripped of their human agony. This moral collapse is no less horrifying than the killings themselves.
Worse still are the agitators—the cheerleaders of war. They have learned nothing from previous massacres, whether on the coast or elsewhere. They fail to grasp that every inflammatory post they share can translate into a bullet fired in the real world, killing a child, a woman, an old man—none of whom had any stake in this conflict beyond being born in the wrong place or into the wrong sect.
Sectarian Provocation from Afar
What stings most is that many of these provocateurs live far from Syria—in safe countries, thousands of miles from death and ruin. For them, the conflict becomes adrenaline-inducing entertainment, a digital drama with new episodes each day. From behind screens, they fan the flames of hatred, call for blood, without bearing any of the consequences—no fear, no loss, no price.
Some of these voices are simply misled. They believe minorities oppose any government led by Sunnis. Yet, the truth is more complex. Many Damascenes recently expressed solidarity with Suweida—but did so anonymously, concealing their names and faces out of fear of retaliation from extremists within their own sect.
These misguided individuals fail to realise that militias affiliated with the new authorities commit massacres in their name, using them as a front in larger political struggles—dragging them into confrontation with the rest of Syria’s communities. Instead of resisting this manipulation, they dive headfirst into it, spreading incitement to feel relevant, even if their role is limited to fuelling more bloodshed.
A Fractured Nation
Beyond the horrific massacres in Suweida and the forced displacement of Bedouin families, the deepest and most enduring wound is the rupture of intercommunal bonds across sects and ethnicities in Syria. This fracture may be irreparable in the short term. It has reshaped Syria’s collective consciousness, plunging society into cycles of suspicion, fear, and mutual blame.
No political rhetoric or superficial reconciliation will suffice to heal this. What is needed is a profound ethical and intellectual reckoning—and a genuine will to move beyond vengeance and discrimination.
Bashar al-Assad was a criminal and a dictator. Yet his one unintended “virtue” was that he briefly united Syrians in opposition to his rule. He gave them a shared dream of a nation without fear, humiliation, or sectarianism—a homeland where dignity and freedom were not luxuries, but rights wrested even from the grip of tanks and torture chambers.
The Bitter Irony
Today, in the wake of Assad’s departure, Syrians find themselves more fractured than ever—divided not over visions of a just state, but over sectarian identity and communal loyalties. Must we truly endure another tyrant to remind us why we revolted in the first place? To recover that moment of clarity when we chanted for liberty—not for a sect, or a tribe, but for all Syrians?
If the revolution was born to end tyranny and uphold dignity, how can Syrians now reproduce that tyranny under new names? If we once dreamt of a nation for everyone, are we now prepared to turn it into a patchwork of fearful, vengeful enclaves?
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.
