When the reign of the Assads finally came to an abrupt end in December 2024, most Syrians expected there would be a period of uncertainty, but not such tough jostling from several sources.

On one side, they are being pulled by those who believe the new government can guide their immediate future and bring them to long-term safety, despite initial hiccups and a failure to rein in zealous militias. On another, they are being jerked by those who refuse to give up the privileges they lost with Bashar Assad’s escape, and who now promise to fight for the former president’s equally violent brother, Maher.

Helping to inflame the situation are two regional enemies, united in their efforts to undermine the new Syria: Iran, whose vast political and military gains over decades crumbled in ten days when Assad fled to Moscow, and Israel, whose shock at the fall of the regime triggered a campaign to occupy even more of the Syrian Golan Heights and to carry out some 500 airstrikes all over Syria in the 48 hours that followed the liberation of Damascus.

As we reached the hundred-day mark of the post-Assad era this month, a milestone that coincided with the 14^th anniversary of the Syrian Revolution, evaluations poured in on what the violent tyrant’s successors have done right, and, mostly, on what they have done wrong or not done at all. Assessing the latter has not been difficult; Syrians are frustrated by a lack of communication and transparency from the new government headed by Ahmed al-Sharaa. In particular, they criticise his non-inclusive decision-making process, which has been limited to a closed circle of like-minded conservative advisors, and by his government’s announcements of positive steps that did not materialise, including the formation of an inclusive, representative government, initially set for the start of March.

A recent conference on national dialogue, widely expected to become a protracted consultative process, turned out to be a hastily summoned convention lasting just a few hours. Hundreds of Syrians (whose invitation criteria remains a mystery) were divided into large groups to discuss important transitional issues during hurried sessions, before the organisers issued a closing statement that clearly did not result from consultations of any depth or scope. Many Syrians considered it to be just another display of form over content, one that ignored their visceral need to participate in moulding their country’s future.

This was followed by a constitutional declaration that determined the law of the country for a period of five years, drawn up by a committee of seven Syrians whose relevant legal expertise was unconvincing. They confirmed Islamic law as the main source of jurisdiction and placed an alarming amount of power in the sole hands of al-Sharaa, whose group, Hayat Tahrir al-Sham, had already named him president upon dissolving itself and joining the Syrian army. The concept of democracy and its derivative civic freedoms, which most Syrian revolutionaries and activists spent the last 14 years demanding, shone by its absence.

With the formalities of defining the transitional period settled, for better or for worse, Syrian circles have categorised these developments under the maxim that ‘the liberator decides’. The implication is that there is little else that can be done. Yet there is an alternative, a path that avoids ideological excesses and privileges a single identity: that of the Syrian citizen.

Some question whether this is a feasible option, or merely an illusion built by a smaller group of secular dreamers who want neither military nor clergy to govern their lives, and who believe that the mutual respect of personal freedoms and duties is the best guarantor of a peaceful society. Would more Syrians agree on this premise? There is only one way to find out and only one way to prepare for it; with national elections due in 2030, there are fewer than five years to turn it into an attractive prospect through serious political and civic engagement.

The truth is that no population coming out of 54 years of the most archaic kind of tyranny, and which has endured a savage and brutal civil war, would have the luxury of prioritising popular participation in its transitional phase. This has been observed in most post-conflict countries, where reconstruction, rebuilding national confidence, and strengthening social harmony had to take precedence.

Assad, Iran and Russia were allowed to destroy the country to a degree that beggars belief; even just clearing the rubble strewn over hundreds of kilometres is a gargantuan task that must be tackled before Syrians can establish how and where to rebuild homes, services and infrastructure from scratch. The areas that weren’t destroyed by Assad and his allies were bombed by Turkey in its war with Kurdish factions, and by the international coalition that fought ISIS.

Today, two-thirds of Syrians are displaced or refugees, and 90 per cent of those who remained in regime-controlled areas all these years now live under the poverty line, many in homes needing repair and reinforcement. As they wait for international aid to start their road to recovery, they have become deeply invested in the governance of their domestic affairs.

The 14 million who lost their homes in Syria have not had a chance to properly debate the issues now animating Syrian circles. So far, the interim authorities have not tried to impose censorship à la Assad, and critical opinions are shared freely and loudly in every Syrian context. But the voices of refugees in camps are not being heard, even though they have the same right as every other Syrian to partake in decisions that will affect their lives.

It would be a miracle if most Syrians were able to return within the next few years, and there is an urgent need for a census that brings the Syrian population clarity after such vast forced displacements, the war’s huge death toll, and the unknown number of births that have yet to be recorded since the beginning of the conflict. During this interim period, as preparations begin for a common future, a growing number of Syrians believe that international assistance will be vital to aid such critical endeavours.

All along, Syrians have been watching reactions to their travails, understanding that global acceptance of al-Sharaa’s interim leadership is necessary before reconstruction can begin. His reassurances to world leaders on Syria no longer being a source of trouble were a prerequisite for economic support, and the lifting of sanctions. Important steps in this direction have been taken this month, first by Canada easing sanctions and offering humanitarian aid, and then by Germany, whose foreign minister personally reopened its embassy in Damascus and offered support conditional on the freedom and security of all Syrians.

These sanctions, originally intended to put pressure on the Assad regime, remain in place following its collapse. They have been turned into a lever of influence, reminding al-Sharaa that their full abolition is contingent on certain steps that he must take, such as inclusivity and diverse representation in his government. And therein lies part of the problem – as Syrians push forward, their priority should not be the the nominal representation demanded from these outside powers, but putting the best qualified people in the right positions, regardless of their ideological leanings or demographic classification.

Some European countries, despite having spent millions of euros since 2011 on NGO programmes training Syrians to embrace concepts of democratisation, citizenship, equality and fairness, spent the last years of Assad’s reign shirking what they preached. They even encouraged or forced refugees to return to Syria, claiming the country had become safe. They had been considering normalisation and sanction relief, encouraged by the first steps taken by Arab states to reintegrate Assad into their fold. If these sanctions were voidable and the refugees returnable while Assad stayed, how could they not be after he was gone, wonder Syrians? Should they not now be encouraging the kind of governance so many Syrians say they want?

The world has spent decades brandishing arbitrarily drawn maps depicting Syrians in sectarian and separatist terms, even while Syrians themselves have spent over a century arguing the exact opposite, considering what unites them to be so much greater than what separates them. With this insistence on division rather than unity, the Assad regime’s weaponisation of sectarianism continues to fester, and enemies of Syrian democratic aspirations – and they are many – continue to engrain ideas of sectarian partition that few Syrians want.

The recent massacre in Latakia Province, triggered by regime remnants killing government security forces, were rightly described as sectarian killings targeting Alawi civilians as well as the armed militias. So were the massacres of thousands of Sunni opponents of Assad during Syria’s long civil war. Yet despite these atrocities, and despite Assad’s best efforts to perpetuate sectarian divisions, most Syrians refuse to fall into this dangerous dichotomy, and nobody should still be pushing this tired and dangerous classification that intensifies grievances and does nothing to heal the country’s wounds. The healing process will not be easy, and Syrians are right to clamour for the accountability of all war criminals. The general amnesty that was offered to the rank and file of security forces was a good start on the road to peace, but there are also thousands of senior officers who must face justice for the good of society.

Even as Syrians reeled from the horror of these sectarian massacres, the Syrian government announced that Ahmed al-Sharaa had reached an agreement with Kurdish leader Mazloum Abdi. Social media platforms were inundated with maps of Syria covered in the vibrant green of a fertile land scattered with jasmine. It was a celebration of the united Syria so many crave. Such is the simplicity of Syrian dreams for unity and dignity, even while arsonists try to set sectarian fires anew.

It is this sense of Syrian communality that must be nurtured and protected, not the age-old divisions of sectarian or ethnic quarrels. For over 50 years, Assad abused all Syrians by claiming to protect minorities, instilling in them the fear of an allegedly menacing majority. For the next five years, as other nations have done before them, Syrians must find strength from this diversity and eradicate such harmful narratives; it is their unity that will protect all communities and citizens, equal under the rule of law.

There will always be sour, opinionated observers who cling to old academic narratives of division, scoffing at idealistic Syrians for dreaming of equality. As Syria prepares to rebuild, it must first deconstruct the frameworks that have led to the same mistakes being imposed for years. That is the freedom Syrians wanted, and that is the Syria that the world should protect, support, and help rebuild.