Four months after the fall of Bashar al-Assad, the situation has grown more complex. While there has been notable progress in securing certain social freedoms, concerns are mounting over the shape of the emerging democracy and the role of Islam in the new order. How long will these social liberties last? And could these gains, as some fear, be only temporary?
On the morning of December 8, 2024, I waited anxiously at the Lebanese border, hoping to cross into Syria as soon as the checkpoint opened, unsure of what awaited me.
Assad, the president who had ruled the country for 24 years, was gone. Opposition fighters had advanced toward Damascus, seizing key cities, including Aleppo. I couldn’t believe what I was seeing: Syria was free.
Like many Syrians, I had known no other rule but that of Assad and his father, Hafez, who governed from 1971 until 2000. Life under the Assad dynasty meant over 50 years of forced disappearances, arbitrary arrests—and a civil war that began in 2011, claiming hundreds of thousands of Syrian lives.
I had been detained at the start of the uprising that year, and several times afterward. I saw men lined up to be beaten and heard the screams of torture. Even after I left the country in 2013, I learned that security forces had raided and vandalized my apartment in Damascus.
I thought I had lost my homeland forever—then, suddenly, the dictatorship collapsed in little more than a week. When I crossed the border without fear of arrest and saw opposition fighters firing celebratory gunshots into the air while people danced in the streets, I felt like laughing and crying at the same time.
For weeks, Damascus’ Umayyad Square became the heart of celebrations. Young and old spoke openly about politics, and debates over Syria’s future unfolded everywhere—among street vendors, taxi drivers, and shoe shiners. Such scenes were unimaginable under Assad, when Syrians could not protest freely for fear of reprisal.
But just four months later, the situation has grown more complicated. Despite clear progress in securing social freedoms, concerns are rising over the nature of the coming democracy and Islam’s role in the new system.
The Return of Exiles
At the Rawda Café in central Damascus, near the parliament building, intellectuals gather around long tables to smoke shisha and discuss culture. Under Assad, political activists were often arrested here, and some waiters were suspected of being regime informants.
Today, the scene is entirely different. The café now hosts debates and live music. Many prominent figures who had fled the country have returned—some greeted by bands playing traditional songs to the beat of large drums.
Syrian journalist Mohammed Ghannam, one of those who came back, says he spent months in regime prisons before fleeing to France. His joy upon returning, he says, is indescribable.
“I believe everyone who can return should, to help rebuild the country,” he says, adding, “Compared to before December 8, 2024, there’s now a real chance to do what you want.”
Reflecting on the past, he notes, “Even mosque preachers needed approval for their sermons. Now, there’s complete freedom. At Friday prayers, the imam spoke about how personal freedom should not infringe on others’.”
Adi al-Zaabi also returned after 14 years. He had left to study but was barred from returning due to his anti-regime views.
“My books were banned here,” he tells me. “Now, there’s no censorship—you can read whatever you want. I was surprised by how many people are eager to read and learn.”
“This is a huge shift,” says Ali Atassi, a Syrian documentary filmmaker and son of former President Nureddin Atassi, who was ousted in a coup led by Hafez al-Assad.
“It’s changed the rules of the game and opened vast new horizons for the country.”
Protecting the Cultural Scene
Syria has long prided itself on its vibrant arts and culture. The Assads worked to project an image of cultural richness, yet artists and writers were sometimes killed for their political views.
Once, carrying certain books was enough to get you arrested. Today, bookstores in the capital display all kinds of works—even political ones. Films once banned are now screened in cinemas.
For weeks after Assad’s fall, the interim government did not appoint a culture minister, so musicians and artists organized themselves to protect the cultural scene.
Yet new fears have emerged: While political debate was suppressed under Assad, some now worry that religious authorities might crack down on certain art forms as “anti-Islamic.”
There’s no clear evidence of this yet. Dr. Maher Sharaa, brother of the interim president, was seen at the opera house with his family, listening to Syrian musicians perform Vivaldi—like any modern family enjoying a cultural outing.
After Assad’s fall, a cultural event was held at the historic Farhi House in Damascus’ Jewish Quarter, featuring discussions on cinema, music, and theater, as well as art exhibitions. An all-female orchestra performed songs honoring revolutionaries and martyrs, bringing some in the audience to tears.
“It’s incredible to have the chance to discuss how to protect and support Syria’s artistic scene,” says Nora Mourad, a choreographer.
Atassi shares her optimism: “I don’t think Syrians will let this new system interfere in their private lives or dictate public behavior.”
The Concentration of Power
When Ahmad Sharaa, the Syrian leader who spearheaded the offensive that toppled Assad, was appointed interim president by a military council on January 29, he pledged to “fill the political vacuum legally and legitimately.”
But months later, concerns are growing over whether a lasting democracy can be built. There is no system to hold officials—including the president—accountable until a permanent constitution is adopted and elections are held.
“In recent months, the system has shown no willingness to share power or allow other political and social forces to take their place in society,” says Atassi.
“Without opening the political arena to others, I don’t think Sharaa can reintegrate Syria into the international community.”
In February, hundreds gathered at Damascus’ People’s Palace for a two-day national dialogue on Syria’s future. But critics say the event was rushed and failed to address key issues.
“Large segments of Syrian society felt excluded or unrepresented,” says Abdelhay Sayed, a Syrian legal expert. “It seemed like an attempt to simulate broad acceptance.” Still, he acknowledges, “It reflects some willingness by the new authorities to expand consultations.”
Sharaa, a former leader of Hay’at Tahrir al-Sham (HTS), has vowed to hold “free and fair elections” and appointed a committee to draft a constitutional declaration outlining Syria’s future during a five-year transition. However, the declaration does not enshrine a separation of powers.
“He must prove his seriousness in including all political factions,” says Atassi.
A Christian woman has been appointed social affairs minister, and the head of the White Helmets now serves as emergency and disaster minister. But the appointment of Sharaa’s brother as head of presidential affairs has raised eyebrows.
“Former high-ranking HTS members now hold sensitive sovereign positions,” notes Sayed.
Atassi adds, “Experts in international law were overlooked, not even consulted.”
The justice minister holds a degree in Islamic law, not Syrian civil law—which derives from French and Ottoman legal traditions. Questions linger over whether Sharia-inspired laws could replace civil codes.
“The new authorities haven’t yet tried to replace existing laws with Sharia-based legislation,” says Sayed. “But this must be closely monitored. The biggest concern is whether judicial independence will be restored and protected.”
Women’s Rights and Religion
Under Assad, women had relatively equal rights, serving in parliament since the 1950s and participating at all levels of society.
No new laws suggest this will change, but there are worrying signs. Only one woman sits in the interim government.
Women’s rights activists, according to a joint study by University College London and McGill University, fear strict interpretations of Islamic law could restrict women’s movement, dress, and public participation.
“We must watch whether female judges—who make up 35–40% of the judiciary—will be sidelined,” says Sayed. “So far, no signs, but caution is necessary.”
As for religious freedom, no new laws restrict social life, but some Syrians say Islamic values are being imposed.
Gender-segregated entrances have appeared at the Justice Ministry, and pamphlets on buses and in the Umayyad Mosque urge women to wear full niqab.
In Damascus’ Christian quarters, cars with loudspeakers have driven through, preaching Islam. Bars and restaurants in the Christian neighborhood of Bab Touma were ordered closed—a decision reversed after public outcry.
Some observers are concerned. Damascus is known for its tolerance, but fears persist that the new leadership has Salafist leanings.
“There’s growing pressure to return to religious values,” says Sayed. “This challenges those who still believe in democracy, rule of law, and equal citizenship.”
But Hussam Jazmati, a Syrian scholar specializing in Islamist movements, argues that Sharaa “opposes both Islamist and secular political movements and doesn’t want—or believe it’s possible—to establish an Islamic state.”
Even if the government wanted to impose hardline practices, could it? Alaaddin Sayeq, a Damascus imam, thinks not: “Our society won’t accept it. We’ve lived in harmony even in the darkest times. The Quran is clear: ‘There is no compulsion in religion.’”
Conflicting Visions of the Future
Tensions are rising: Sectarian violence in coastal cities has killed over 1,400, many from Assad’s Alawite sect, in what appear to be revenge attacks.
In the northeast, despite the Syrian Democratic Forces (SDF) declaring victory over ISIS in 2019, camps still hold around 56,000 people—many families of suspected ISIS members—five years after the group’s defeat.
The biggest question now is: How do Syrians see their future?
According to researcher Jazmati, tensions exist between Sharaa’s leadership and HTS. He says Sharaa’s circle seeks a “conservative yet economically liberal” state but can’t stop some appointees from pushing Islamization.
The International Crisis Group shares these concerns, warning that Syria is in “a state of limbo.”
“The interim government is near bankruptcy, security forces are exhausted, poverty is worsening, and rebellion simmers on the periphery. Foreign interference persists. Western sanctions deprive leaders of resources needed for reconstruction while preventing fragmentation or a return to civil war.”
For Atassi, the solution is clear: Sharaa must open the political arena.
“There are no elections in Syria today—only appointments. That’s very dangerous.”
He adds, “A new dictatorship may be forming, but I don’t think Syrians, after five decades, will accept another one.”
As for lasting democracy? “We’ll have to wait and see,” he says. “But I’m not optimistic at all.”
There’s a broader issue, too: Has Syria’s modern history eroded faith in democracy itself?
Abdelfattah Sayed believes so.
“Even under Assad, constitutions paid lip service to political freedoms… But our experience with political modernity came in the form of shells falling on our heads while our bodies were naked in detention camps,” he tells me.
“Large segments of Syrians have lost trust in the promises of political modernity.”
Among the many challenges facing the new leadership, perhaps the wisest starting point would be addressing this very issue—forging a new path for Syria’s future.
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.
