Masked armed forces of the new Syrian government raise their Kalashnikov rifles as they are being deployed to the coastal city of Latakia on March 8, 2025 [Omar Albaw/Middle East Images/AFP via Getty]
During the first six months of rule by the allied Islamist factions that swept the Assad regime from Syria, the most notable developments have been the successive measures taken to monopolise the levers of state under their control.
These measures have been quietly enacted to a backdrop of ongoing sectarian violence, the most prominent case of which were the series of massacres carried out by certain factions in the coastal region against unarmed Alawites – without any attempt by the “state” to protect those who were supposedly its citizens, or to hold perpetrators accountable.
This was unsurprising, given that some of the factions responsible are themselves part of the state’s ruling apparatus and constitute part of its new army. As a result, a segment of the population now views what is supposed to be their own army as a predator lying in wait for them. This is very similar to the impression created by the Assad regime in its long effort to crush the Syrian revolution, using all the resources at its disposal, especially the army.
If we set aside Syrians who either support or oppose the new administration based primarily on emotional rather than rational positions, we see that serious observers are divided in their stance towards what Syria has been experiencing over the past six months.
One camp expresses a leniency towards the monopolisation of the state by these factions, as well as towards the massacres and violations. It attributes these “negative phenomena” more to the challenging conditions inherited and faced by the new rulers than to the nature of the forces that seized control of the state following Assad’s ousting.
These individuals are largely sympathetic to the authorities, seeking excuses for them and believing that they need more time to improve. I see this stance as characterised by a kind of mystical optimism. Those espousing this view are automatically classified by their opponents as part of the new “pro-regime” camp.
On the other side, there is the camp which focuses on the non-civilian nature of the new ruling authorities and their refusal to engage in power-sharing. They emphasise the ongoing sectarianism and violations, for which they hold the new regime responsible, especially given that the sectarian practices of the factions have not ceased over the past six months.
The authorities have neither clearly acknowledged the ongoing sectarian violations, nor held the perpetrators accountable.
Those who focus on this aspect are classified by their opponents as being opposed to the new regime – a label that carries certain intended connotations, such as being linked to the collapsed Assad regime’s supporters, or being accused of sectarian bias, especially if the person happens to be Alawite.
Alongside these two positions, there is a more radical stance that rejects any recognition of or engagement with the new administration, on the grounds that the dominant forces within it are fundamentally sectarian and adhere to an ideology that inherently contradicts the very idea of building an inclusive, national state.
The current Syrian reality offers ample evidence to support the proponents of this view.
However, despite the fierceness of these rhetorical debates, they actually represent only a thin layer of the real conflict in Syria today, which is between the current regime’s insular nature and monopolistic tendencies on one side, and society’s effort to break through both of these – a struggle also at the core of the Syrian revolution. Today’s conflict is about the form of governance that will emerge and how the relationship between the government and society will be defined.
The striking paradox in Syria over the past six months is that violence is most pronounced where there is no real conflict. There is ongoing violence against one group (the Alawites) who have shown no resistance (aside from some criminal operations planned and executed by remnants of the regime on March 6 against public security patrols and checkpoints). Moreover, this group poses no actual threat, and, most notably, has no political demands.
The Alawites as a group have been stripped of their political influence, and in light of the material and psychological devastation they have suffered since the Islamist factions took over, their highest hope has become simply to feel safe. This has even led some among them to call for external protection, given their incapacity for self-protection and their lack of protection from the state.
The ongoing sectarian violence against them does not denote a conflict, because it is one-sided. Rather, these are violations being committed against a group that shows no resistance – not even self-defence. Yet this violence does serve a purpose beyond merely satisfying the vengeful impulses that rally a segment of the public around the new authorities, or fulfilling the desires of some for spoils.
It also functions as a way to sideline the genuine struggle at play and to obscure the deep dysfunction being created and entrenched in the structure of the state by the new rulers.
Another example of this sidelining is how it has become common to praise developments like the fact that sectarian identity checks at checkpoints have stopped as an achievement (among others) that warrants optimism about the authority’s “spontaneous” evolution toward civilian governance.
At a basic level, the effectiveness of violence as a tool to direct people’s attention can be seen in the sense of relief people express simply because checkpoints are no longer stopping or harassing them. This shows how qualitative violence effectively consumes the public’s energy, diverting it away from efforts to build a balanced form of governance.
It is noticeable that the ruling authority in Damascus today isn’t making an effort to put an end to the ongoing, low-intensity sectarian violence that moves from place to place. It is enough for them that the violence remains below the scale of massacres that could provoke global public opinion, as long as Syrian society grows accustomed to accepting this level of violence.
The marked absence of official media coverage for the violence is in line with the rulers’ lack of efforts to curb it – because the ambiguity of the authorities’ stance on the violence increases its psychological impact while they are simultaneously relieved of having to take responsibility.
Another aspect of this is the army of unofficial “media commentators” who narrate events from the authorities’ perspective without the authorities either bearing any accountability, nor being bound by what they say.
Among these figures are those who publish threats and sectarian incitement which the authorities themselves don’t explicitly endorse (thus avoiding responsibility) but also take no action to prevent (so it maintains its impact).
Instead, they allow these individuals to operate freely, instilling fear in people and leading them to view the silent authorities as a refuge from an “extremist public”.
All of the above suggests that the “unofficial”, low-intensity violence in Syria is not incidental – it is a form of governance that the factions have mastered like no other. Moreover, this violence is mobile, and can shift from one area to another and target different groups depending on what is needed to maintain control over society at any given moment.
Rateb Shabo is a Syrian physician and writer born in 1963. He spent 16 years in detention in Syria. He published The World of Early Islam (a study) and What Is Behind These Walls (a novel).
This is an edited translation from our Arabic edition. To read the original article click here.
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Opinions expressed in this article remain those of the author and do not necessarily represent those of The New Arab, its editorial board or staff.