Damascus has fallen with little resistance from the regime. History, at times, ends with a whimper rather than a bang.
Syria stares at a turning point. The Assad regime, decades in power and long propped up by Russian jets and Iranian proxies, appears to have collapsed not with the thunder of artillery but with a subdued whisper. Once-fortified Damascus, after half a century under the Assad family’s grip, now answers to Hayat Tahrir al-Sham (HTS). Led by Abu Mohammed al-Jolani—a figure once tethered to al-Qaeda and branded a terrorist by Washington, Brussels, and the UN—HTS has emerged from the ashes of global jihadism to claim stewardship of the Syrian state. Only recently, such a transformation seemed unimaginable.
Transitions from insurgency to governance rarely follow a neat path—a reality I observed through PhD field research on Syrian rebel governance and through my work as a journalist with the BBC and research at SWP Berlin. In Idlib, Hayat Tahrir al-Sham’s (HTS) Syrian Salvation Government (SSG) became a proving ground for administration, delivering electricity, sanitation, and bread to war-weary civilians. These efforts demonstrated a capability for governance beyond the battlefield, hinting at a pragmatic shift. Yet, what succeeded in one corner of Syria—a controlled environment with a relatively homogenous population—may not translate to a nation of 18 million people, half displaced, and fractured across sectarian, ethnic, and political lines. Syria is no blank slate. A Christian priest can still hold services in Aleppo; Kurds wield a measure of autonomy in the northeast; and memories of ISIS atrocities and Assad’s prisons have left the national psyche shattered.
But governing a single province is different from ruling a nation. My fieldwork revealed three critical challenges confronting any faction stepping into Damascus. First is legitimacy: running Idlib meant restoring basics like electricity and bread distribution, but Damascus demands a far more complex bureaucracy. Within days of taking Aleppo, HTS dispatched teams to fix infrastructure and maintain order, yet managing a multifaceted population and central institutions will require constitutional safeguards, trust in the courts, and a protective framework for minorities. Second is international recognition: Jolani bristles at the “terrorist” label, telling CNN these designations are “political and wrong.” Yet foreign capitals, investors, and NGOs hesitate to engage deeply with a group that once championed armed jihad. Words alone won’t erase old fears. Third is internal opposition: HTS once enforced order with an iron fist, imprisoning and torturing activists. Now, it must allow space for dissent, ensuring that gestures like permitting unveiled women or tolerating Christian worship translate into genuine structural reforms rather than hollow optics.
Over the past weeks, HTS swept through Aleppo, Hama, and Homs with surprising ease as Assad’s forces melted away. Russia and Iran, once unwavering supporters, seemed to lose interest in propping up a sinking ship. Arab states that halfheartedly welcomed Assad’s return to their diplomatic fold now scramble for a coherent response. Meanwhile, Western governments doubt the sincerity of HTS’s metamorphosis, and global consultancies and sovereign funds are wary. The region’s economic and strategic significance as a nexus of trade corridors and energy routes lingers in the background, but who invests in a state run by a leader with a $10 million bounty on his head?
Jolani’s rhetorical pivot is unmistakable: “We are talking about a governance aligned with the traditions of this region,” he says, insisting that “no one has the right to erase another group.” Allowing women not to veil, letting Christians conduct services unmolested—these are signals of newfound pragmatism. But the gap between image and institution is vast. To scale the relative stability achieved in Idlib to an entire nation, HTS must integrate rival factions, respect religious and ethnic diversity, and grant local communities a say in their own affairs. Without genuine power-sharing, it risks replicating the same authoritarian mold it claims to replace.
Comparing HTS with SDF and FSA: Lessons from Field Research
Past models offer lessons and warnings. The Kurdish-led Syrian Democratic Forces built an impressive local order with U.S. backing, but did not aspire to rule all of Syria. The Turkey-backed Syrian National Army struggled with factionalism and graft. ISIS’s so-called caliphate offered only brutality. HTS’s hybrid approach—part ideological, part technocratic—held Idlib together, but can it guide a vastly more complicated landscape without resorting to old repressive habits? If it can write a constitution that protects minorities, dismantle the instruments of terror, and earn at least some grudging nods of acceptance, it may open the door to reconstruction deals and a return of refugees.
The stakes transcend Syria’s borders. If HTS delivers stability and relative fairness, refugees scattered across Turkey, Lebanon, Jordan, and even some in Europe might come home. Reconstruction, trade, and infrastructure projects could reshape the region’s economy. But if oppression and revenge define this new order, another mass exodus and new cycles of bloodshed await. As foreign capitals measure their responses, they recall how often insurgent leaders have promised tolerance, only to revert to cruelty once power was secured.
In the end, the path before HTS is narrow and steep. HTS must transcend its insurgent history, forging real trust with Syrians and the outside world. If it succeeds in meeting those three critical challenges—establishing legitimacy through inclusive governance, securing international recognition via tangible reforms, and managing internal opposition by showing genuine tolerance and accountability—it may yet transform from an armed faction into a pivotal broker of Syria’s future. If it fails, it will add another grim chapter to a country too long defined by betrayal and despair.
The page is turning, but the ink is still wet. Investors, diplomats, intelligence officers, and humanitarian planners are all watching closely. Neighboring powers, from Turkey to Israel, from the Gulf states to Europe, are all quietly recalculating their strategies. The question now is whether Syria’s next chapter will be written by a group that once wielded ideology and terror as its main currency, or by a transformed entity capable of governing a wounded nation back from the brink.
Syria’s future hangs in the balance. The choice isn’t between ideal options, but between possible ones. As Syria’s streets fill with garbage collectors instead of fighters, we’re watching either the birth of a new Syrian state or the prelude to its next crisis.