It was the first Friday at noon (the most important prayer) without Bashar El Assad in power and in one of the greatest mosques in the world, the Umayyad mosque in Damascus. The perfect setting for the new prime minister, Mohamed Al Bashir, to present to the crowded faithful (there was no room for a pin) his vision of Syria, once the dictator was overthrown, putting an end to 13 years of civil war and half a century of family dynasty. . Al Bashir was the prime minister in Idlib (the rebel stronghold from which the successful lightning offensive began) and has now assumed the leadership of the entire country’s government on an interim basis, to lead a transition until March 2025. Uploaded to minbar (pulpit) and with a silent audience, he has launched a conciliatory message. He has called for “reconciliation”, at a time when specific revenge murders are being recorded and minorities (especially the Alawites from whom the Assads came – and supported the regime -, as well as Christians) fear for the future, despite to the verbal guarantees of the new leaders.
“Be merciful,” said Al Bashir, recalling that the construction of the new Syrian State is the task of “everyone” and that the “victory” in the war, consummated last Sunday, now gives them a great “responsibility” to “ open a new era of justice and dignity.” “The liberation of Syria will not be a single change of authority. “It would be a Government of freedom and dignity,” he noted. “Hopefully,” he added, “it becomes a safe and stable place” and “returns to its place among the nations.”
Afterwards, they prayed the funeral prayer for “the martyrs and prisoners” of the half century in which the Assads ruled with an iron fist. They did so to the detriment of the Sunni majority, for whom the Umayyad mosque is a universal symbol.
The new Syria is making its way these days between the euphoria of some, the fear of others, and the uncertainty of all. In the Damascus souk, shopkeepers painted the shutters of their shops white since the morning, covering the old flag of the overthrown regime, which has two stars, instead of three. It is, they claimed, the color of peace. Other stores have chosen to paint the third star in the middle.
Ahmed Sharaa, the leader of Hayat Tahrir Al Sham who, under the name Abu Mohammed Al Julani, led the lightning offensive from Idlib, had called on the population to gather this Friday in different parts of the country to celebrate (without shooting in the air) the end of the Assad regime and focus now on the construction of a new Syria. In Damascus, the epicenter this afternoon was the Umayyad Square and their request, quite respected, except for some specific shots, which disfigured the mothers, because they scared the children.
The stars were, without a doubt, the ex-combatants, in a mix of rifles and selfies very typical of the Syria of 2024. Climbing into vehicles and in military uniforms (some still hooded, although they no longer need them), they did not have a second without that some young man (many of them girls) would take pictures with them or ask for the rifle to pose holding it. Using a universal symbol, some combatants (hastily converted into the new authority) placed roses on the barrels of their rifles. Many parents painted the new flag on their children’s cheeks.
The collective feeling was one of light celebration. The banners with three stars and the chant “Raise your head, you are a free Syrian” prevailed. It dates back to the beginning of the Arab Spring. It was heard, changing the country, in the streets of Libya or Egypt and, 13 years later, the crowd sings it here. Amani Aboud, 35 years old, six of them in Assad’s prisons, for “terrorism” (helping to transfer weapons to the rebels) admits that, every day, he wakes up believing that Assad is still in power. “Everything happened so fast that I often think it’s a dream,” he adds. “I don’t fear the future. We have not made a revolution to end up fearing it. Ours has simply arrived late.”
The thousands of attendees belonged to various generations, but the vast majority were young people and adolescents, of both sexes. They are those who have grown up with war and deprivation, circumventing information censorship with cell phone tricks, and feel liberated today. Like Ibrahim, 20, who spent most of his life with a feeling he describes like this: “If you lifted a finger, they would cut off your hand.” Or Basel, which had been realizing that “the regime painted a Syria that had nothing to do with reality.” “We have recovered freedom when no one expected it anymore. We had resigned ourselves,” he adds.
There were, however, some contradictions between the mottos, and between reality and desires. The vast majority of attendees, for example, were Sunnis, based on their attire.
One of the most chanted chants was “One, one, one, the Syrian people are one.” But right after came others like “Our leader forever is Master Muhammad”, “God is the greatest” or “We follow your calling, Allah”. Some waved the flag of Hayat Tahrir Al Sham, the Salafist group that increasingly strives to project an image of moderation but has a past of persecution and human rights violations. Al Julani has recorded his latest video in civilian attire, instead of the usual military one.
“It is true,” Ibrahim admitted, “that there are very few people here who are not Sunnis. They are afraid that we will cut off their heads, but those who say things like that are just talk and, furthermore, they are very very few. The rest of us simply celebrate that our country has been free again.”
