Political analysis by Ibrahim Mustafa (Kaban)
More than a year after the fall of Bashar al-Assad’s regime, Syria was expected to embark on a new historical phase — one of reconstruction, democratic transition, and the long-awaited liberation from decades of tyranny and fear. Yet what emerged instead was a new form of authoritarianism wrapped in the language of revolution and redemption. Ahmad al-Sharaa, widely known as al-Jolani, and the network surrounding him have established a new order that mirrors the old one, not by restoring the Baathist state, but by reproducing its essence: centralized control, ideological conformity, and the silencing of dissent — all under the banners of “liberation” and “Islamic governance.”
Thus, the Syrian tragedy today can be read through two successive images of domination: the thugs of Assad, who embodied the raw violence and sectarian machinery of Baathist despotism, and the drummers of al-Sharaa — the ideologues, propagandists, and pseudo-revolutionary elites who now sanctify a new ruler in Damascus. The continuity between the two regimes is not institutional but structural: both rely on fear, obedience, and myth-making to maintain power, while crushing any genuine civic or intellectual alternative.
The collapse of Assad’s regime did not mean the collapse of the authoritarian mindset. The new rulers inherited a traumatized society and an exhausted population, and instead of dismantling the old machinery of control, they refashioned it to serve their own narrative. Al-Jolani’s rise from a militant commander to the self-proclaimed “savior” of Damascus was not a revolution fulfilled, but a cycle of domination renewed — a shift from police authoritarianism to doctrinal authoritarianism.
The “drummers of al-Sharaa” — the new class of commentators, clerics, and intellectuals orbiting around al-Jolani’s authority — now perform the same function that the regime’s cultural elites once did under Assad. They rationalize oppression as “stability,” justify silence as “wisdom,” and label any critique as “sedition” or “foreign conspiracy.” In doing so, they have transformed the discourse of resistance into a tool of manipulation, replacing the Baathist slogans of “steadfastness” and “sovereignty” with Islamist ones of “sharia” and “liberation.” Yet behind both lies the same truth: the defense of unchecked power.
Al-Jolani’s Damascus, much like Assad’s before it, is governed not by civic institutions but by networks of security, wealth, and ideology. The new regime has established three central pillars of control:
Sociologically speaking, Syria’s transformation from the Assad regime to the al-Jolani regime represents not a rupture but a continuity of authoritarian reproduction. The state’s coercive apparatus may have changed hands, but the cultural and psychological architecture of obedience remains intact. Both systems are predicated on the same logic: the ruler as the embodiment of destiny, dissent as betrayal, and stability as submission.
What is perhaps most alarming in this post-Assad era is the erosion of the national meaning itself. Under Assad, nationalism was exploited to justify tyranny in the name of unity; under al-Jolani, religion is exploited to justify the same tyranny in the name of divine order. The secular dictator has been replaced by the doctrinal emir, and the “republic of fear” has become an “emirate of virtue.” In both cases, Syria remains a territory of control, not a homeland of citizens.
The emergence of al-Jolani’s cultural and media elites — the so-called “drummers of al-Sharaa” — reveals the moral bankruptcy of many who once claimed to speak for the revolution. They have replaced critical thought with propaganda, ethics with loyalty, and the pursuit of justice with the glorification of authority. These figures are not merely opportunists; they are active agents in the normalization of a new despotism, softening its image before the international community while silencing those who expose its abuses.
Damascus today stands as a paradox: liberated from the Baathist dictator, yet imprisoned by another form of absolutism. The fear that once emanated from the intelligence branches now emanates from the religious police. The slogans have changed, but the silence remains.
Thus, the Syrian tragedy today can be read through two successive images of domination: the thugs of Assad, who embodied the raw violence and sectarian machinery of Baathist despotism, and the drummers of al-Sharaa — the ideologues, propagandists, and pseudo-revolutionary elites who now sanctify a new ruler in Damascus. The continuity between the two regimes is not institutional but structural: both rely on fear, obedience, and myth-making to maintain power, while crushing any genuine civic or intellectual alternative.
The collapse of Assad’s regime did not mean the collapse of the authoritarian mindset. The new rulers inherited a traumatized society and an exhausted population, and instead of dismantling the old machinery of control, they refashioned it to serve their own narrative. Al-Jolani’s rise from a militant commander to the self-proclaimed “savior” of Damascus was not a revolution fulfilled, but a cycle of domination renewed — a shift from police authoritarianism to doctrinal authoritarianism.
The “drummers of al-Sharaa” — the new class of commentators, clerics, and intellectuals orbiting around al-Jolani’s authority — now perform the same function that the regime’s cultural elites once did under Assad. They rationalize oppression as “stability,” justify silence as “wisdom,” and label any critique as “sedition” or “foreign conspiracy.” In doing so, they have transformed the discourse of resistance into a tool of manipulation, replacing the Baathist slogans of “steadfastness” and “sovereignty” with Islamist ones of “sharia” and “liberation.” Yet behind both lies the same truth: the defense of unchecked power.
Al-Jolani’s Damascus, much like Assad’s before it, is governed not by civic institutions but by networks of security, wealth, and ideology. The new regime has established three central pillars of control:
- Security dominance, through militias and secret services loyal to the emir rather than to any notion of a state.
- Economic monopoly, via opaque trade channels, taxation systems, and war-time profiteering.
- Ideological normalization, carried out by religious and media figures who sanctify the regime’s authority and frame its repression as moral duty.
Sociologically speaking, Syria’s transformation from the Assad regime to the al-Jolani regime represents not a rupture but a continuity of authoritarian reproduction. The state’s coercive apparatus may have changed hands, but the cultural and psychological architecture of obedience remains intact. Both systems are predicated on the same logic: the ruler as the embodiment of destiny, dissent as betrayal, and stability as submission.
What is perhaps most alarming in this post-Assad era is the erosion of the national meaning itself. Under Assad, nationalism was exploited to justify tyranny in the name of unity; under al-Jolani, religion is exploited to justify the same tyranny in the name of divine order. The secular dictator has been replaced by the doctrinal emir, and the “republic of fear” has become an “emirate of virtue.” In both cases, Syria remains a territory of control, not a homeland of citizens.
The emergence of al-Jolani’s cultural and media elites — the so-called “drummers of al-Sharaa” — reveals the moral bankruptcy of many who once claimed to speak for the revolution. They have replaced critical thought with propaganda, ethics with loyalty, and the pursuit of justice with the glorification of authority. These figures are not merely opportunists; they are active agents in the normalization of a new despotism, softening its image before the international community while silencing those who expose its abuses.
Damascus today stands as a paradox: liberated from the Baathist dictator, yet imprisoned by another form of absolutism. The fear that once emanated from the intelligence branches now emanates from the religious police. The slogans have changed, but the silence remains.
From an academic perspective, this situation exemplifies the phenomenon of authoritarian mutation — where political systems adapt to survive by shifting their ideological language while preserving their coercive core. In such systems, power is not transferred but transformed; violence becomes moralized, and control becomes sacred.
Syria’s salvation, therefore, does not lie in choosing between the old and the new autocracy, but in transcending both. It requires a radical epistemological and moral break — a dismantling of the culture of obedience and of every discourse that justifies violence in the name of law, faith, or revolution. The country’s rebirth can begin only when Syrians reclaim their political and moral agency, when they cease to be subjects of leaders and become citizens of a nation.
The Syrian intellectual community, both at home and in exile, bears a crucial responsibility in this process: to unmask the “drummers of al-Sharaa” as they once exposed Assad’s propagandists, and to rebuild a civic imagination that places humanity above ideology, justice above loyalty, and dignity above power.
The struggle in Syria today is no longer between regime and opposition, nor between secularism and Islamism, but between freedom and the rebranded faces of tyranny. Until that struggle is resolved in favor of liberty and truth, Syria will remain suspended — trapped between the ruins of the past and the illusions of its so-called liberators, between the thugs of Assad and the drummers of al-Sharaa, between loss and destruction.
