To live under a narcissistic government is not merely to endure a leadership obsessed with appearances and performative public displays—it is to inhabit a political discourse that constantly redefines reality, not to clarify it, but to preserve the regime’s image. In such a system, truth becomes fluid, and perception is relentlessly sculpted to fit the needs of power.
Syria, a country devastated by fourteen years of war and decades of authoritarianism under the Assads, today finds itself awash in a euphoric sense of victory. Many Syrians, long deprived of dignity and basic rights, are understandably celebrating this moment of transition. But while public joy is legitimate, Syria’s total ruin demands voices of reason—less intoxicated by triumphalism, and more grounded in sobriety and inclusiveness.
The Illusion of a “New” Order
In the post-Assad era, the new government has presented itself as a radical departure from its predecessor: young leadership, a fresh political tone, and a display of “civilian austerity.” Yet what initially appeared to be an effort at differentiation has gradually morphed into the construction of another “natural leader” myth—one who is always visible, always among the people, always central to every narrative.
The president is shown strolling through Damascus, dining in public. The foreign minister is photographed praying in mosques. Ministers make surprise appearances in markets, restaurants, and airports—moments carefully curated and broadcast to signal authenticity and accessibility.
But amid this visual saturation, critical questions vanish:
- What about the massacres in the coastal regions and Suweida?
- Why are Kurdish voices absent from the constitutional process?
- Where is the genuine representation of Syria’s social and sectarian mosaic?
- And why does even the mildest critique of government policy elicit accusations of treason or “counter-revolutionary” affiliation?
In this climate, public discourse does not allow for scrutiny or argument. Dissent is met not with dialogue, but with mobilization and character assassination. The regime doesn’t merely propagate its narrative—it actively erases competing ones. This is not just a matter of authoritarian impulse; it reflects a broader psychological phenomenon: collective narcissism.
Collective Narcissism: When Image Matters More Than Reality
According to researcher Agnieszka Golec de Zavala, collective narcissism is defined as “an inflated belief in the greatness of one’s own group, paired with a constant sense that others fail to recognize it properly.” It is not merely pride in one’s group—it is a defensive posture born of perceived disrespect. It breeds hypersensitivity to criticism, even when that criticism is internal or constructive.
Governments can nurture this mindset by cultivating a narrative of collective victimhood, inflating the group’s historical superiority, and justifying repression as a form of self-defense.
This dynamic is visible today in how some Syrians downplay the Church of Mar Elias massacre by invoking the far greater number of deaths under Assad, or by defaulting to rhetorical tropes like “Where were you for the past 14 years?” Others insist that only those fighting the Israeli occupation have the right to shape Syria’s political destiny, repeating the slogan “He who liberates, decides.”
Such sentiments are not mere Facebook comments—they are symptoms of a deeper ideological alignment among segments of the public with the ruling power. The denial, deflection, and hostility to pluralism are not anomalies; they are byproducts of the political culture now in place.
The Dangers of a Narcissistic Public
The greatest danger, however, lies not just in the narcissistic tendencies of the state—but in the public that mirrors them.
Collective narcissism weakens a society’s ability to reform itself. Instead of pushing for justice, transparency, and institutional integrity, members of the group become preoccupied with maintaining a flattering external image. Reality is denied. Failures are minimized. Criticism is vilified. “Give them time,” becomes the reflexive mantra.
In this logic, what matters is not whether the government delivers fairness or inclusivity—but whether it looks strong and appears globally admired. In this worldview, cheerleading and exaggeration are conflated with patriotism. The public becomes complicit in its own misdirection.
Research shows that collective narcissism doesn’t just invent external enemies—it produces internal ones as well. A recent experimental study reveals that individuals scoring high in collective narcissism are more likely to slander or conspire against members of their own group if they believe those members tarnish the group’s image or deviate from its narrative.
This creates a dangerous internal purge—a symbolic “cleansing” of those deemed disloyal, even when their critiques stem from concern, not opposition. No central authority is needed to enforce this censorship; an emotionally invested public will do it on its own, acting as an invisible surveillance force.
When Loyalty Becomes Uniformity
This psychological pattern is not unique to Syria. It recurs in societies where identity is tied to an unassailable narrative of victimhood or virtue. In such environments, loyalty is defined not by commitment to shared values, but by conformity to the dominant story.
Solidarity becomes conditional on silence. Belonging becomes synonymous with sameness. Any divergence—even if legitimate—becomes a perceived threat to the whole.
This is the ultimate danger of collective narcissism: it doesn’t just exclude the “other.” It erodes diversity within the group. It redefines loyalty as submission to the image, not the mission. And in doing so, it hollows out the meaning of politics itself—leaving no room for accountability, pluralism, or genuine public discourse. What remains is the façade of a state endlessly recycling itself through the language of eternal struggle, eternal exception, and eternal triumph.
A Final Reckoning
So what exactly are we facing in Syria today?
Is the new government simply narcissistic?
Or are we confronting something deeper—a political culture where denial, deflection, and performative unity have become shared habits of thought? Are we seeing a government imposing conformity, or a public embracing it?
Are we truly supporting the collective good, or merely dissolving into its image?
And if we have begun to reproduce the very exclusionary mechanisms once used against us—how different are we from the system we claim to have overthrown?
The line between loyalty and complicity is thinner than we think. And if we fail to distinguish between them, we risk becoming what we once resisted—only more self-congratulatory, and less self-aware.
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.
