Euphoria. That is the closest word to describe how I feel right now, yet it still falls short of capturing the overwhelming tide of emotions coursing through me.
I am in disbelief, marvelling at the sheer impossibility of what has happened. How could a regime that brutalised Syrians for over 53 years be toppled in just 10 days? And yet, it happened.
Millions of Syrians, whether inside Syria or in the diaspora, feel relatively the same.
I myself cannot believe I am thinking and writing these words absolutely freely, without any form of self censure or censorship. For even in my Dublin safe haven I couldn’t really breathe freely, couldn’t say what I really felt or wanted to say.
Like millions of Syrian immigrants and naturalised Euro-Syrians, I too had left loved ones behind that the Assad regime could have easily arrested, killed or — worse — confined to the torture chambers of Saydnaya dungeons which horrified the world recently.
I too, therefore, have been guilty of mincing my words and not calling a spade a spade.
And I’m equally ecstatic, euphorically short of breath, with the hectic speed of events that had sent the dictator Bashar al-Assad to his Moscow exile and instated in his place Abu Mohammad al-Julani, leader of HTS — the Arabic initials for Hay’at (authority) Tahrir (liberation), Sham (Greater Syria).
The change is so radical, so sudden, that I am still in disbelief.
The news of the regime’s fall was a shock, an extraordinary surprise that rippled through Syria and beyond. For countless Syrians, it was the best surprise of our lives — a moment we never dared to dream of, now made real. A weight has lifted, and in its place, a new Syria is born.
For thousands of years, Syria has endured waves of invaders and tyrants. But even in this long history of suffering, no figure compares to the unparalleled cruelty of Hafez al-Assad and his son, Bashar.
The Assad dynasty’s regime has not only inflicted immeasurable harm but has set a horrifying benchmark for oppression and brutality that is difficult to fathom.
Statues of Assad, both father and son, dominate the streets of towns and cities across Syria. Their names are etched on every library, museum, and theatre. As a student in Syria, I remember how images of the Assad family permeated every corner of our lives — classrooms, books, notebooks, uniforms, and even hats. The only sanctuary from their omnipresence were underwear and toilets.
When Hafez al-Assad came to power in 1971 by military coup, Syria became a realm of torment. Hundreds of thousands of Syrians were tortured to death.
In 1982, under the orders of Hafez al-Assad, the Syrian army and the paramilitary defence companies launched a brutal 27-day siege on the city of Hama to suppress a Muslim Brotherhood uprising against the regime.
Reports estimate that the crackdown resulted in the deaths of 10,000 to 40,000 civilians in the isolated and devastated city over the course of a single harrowing month. I first learned about the Hama massacre from my family.
Mourners weep during the funeral of Syrian activist Mazen al-Hamada in Damascus on Thursday after his mangled corpse was found wrapped in a bloody sheet in Saydnaya prison. It may well prove to one of the last acts of savagery by the Assad regime that ruled Syrian for half a century. Picture: Hussein Malla/AP
Even though we were all in the same room, they whispered in fear, too afraid to speak openly. “Hush,” they warned, “the walls have ears”.
The true face of the Assad regime is evident to anyone who dares to look. Reports such as Amnesty International’s ‘Human Slaughterhouse: Mass Hangings and Extermination at Saydnaya Prison’ paint a grim picture of systematic brutality.
The prison, where over 100,000 detainees were “disappeared” and slaughtered, symbolises the regime’s inhumanity. Survivors’ testimonies and videos reveal a grotesque reality: Mass hangings, starvation, and torture so vile that it defies comprehension.
The regime’s cruelty extends far beyond the confines of its prisons. In 2011, it waged war against its own people simply because Syrians dared to demand freedom, justice, and dignity. This war has reverberated across the globe, and its consequences continue to shape our world today.
As a journalist and editor, I specialised in verifying social media content from conflict zones, primarily in my homeland, Syria.
Returning Syrians wait to cross into the country from Turkey at the Cilvegozu border gate, near the town of Antakya. Picture: Metin Yoksu/AP
I authenticated raw videos from eyewitnesses and citizen journalists, documenting the harrowing reality of war. I witnessed unfiltered footage of children pulled from rubble in Aleppo, rescue workers recovering infants’ remains in Idlib, grieving mothers in Homs, and the horrors of starvation in Madaya, or chemical attacks in Ghouta near Damascus.
I helped ensure their stories were written for the entire world to see and their voices heard across international media. But I often asked myself: Will these innocent Syrians ever see justice?
December 8, 2024 — a date etched in history as the moment their justice finally arrived.
“This time, they are different,” a close friend told me after meeting face-to-face with the fighters who ousted the Syrian regime. They reassured people they weren’t seeking revenge — they had only come to liberate Syria from Assad.
This behaviour has brought some relief to the community and minorities, offering a glimmer of hope. However, people remain cautious, their trust tempered by fear and the weight of past experiences.
While I’ve come across credible reports of isolated incidents of violence and retaliation, these appear to remain individual cases rather than a systemic pattern. Remarkably, the transition occurred without the bloodbath many feared.
The regime’s brutality fuelled the rise of radicalisation and extremist groups such as ISIS, a strategy it used to label all opposition as terrorism. The extremist groups, which are alien to Syrian society and culture, are a direct result of Assad’s brutality.
Among these groups is Hay’at Tahrir al Sham, which led the military operation that ended Assad’s rule.
Syrians gather in celebration days after the fall of Bashar al-Assad’s government at the Umayyad Square in Damascus. Picture: Leo Correa/AP
Its leader, Abu Mohammed al-Julani — born Ahmad al-Shara — has a controversial past, including designation as a terrorist, ties to al Qaeda, and a $10m (€9.5) bounty on his head.
But, since December 8, the same leader and fighters have shown signs of change. It seems they have shaken off the past. Al-Julani, now using his real name, told CNN: “A person in their 20s will have a different personality than someone in their 30s or 40s, and certainly someone in their 50s. This is human nature.”
He has also assured the safety of minorities and personal freedom — a positive shift.
Syria’s newly-appointed interim leader, Mohammed al-Bashir, announced that he would serve as caretaker prime minister until March 1.
Mohammad al-Bashir, centre, the head of the interim government in Syria, attending Friday prayer inside the seventh century Umayyad mosque in Damascus, Syria, last night. Picture: Omar Sanadiki/AP
He has pledged to unify the country, repatriate refugees, and rebuild — but he faces the challenge of scarce funding.
Time will tell, but for now, hope cautiously lingers. It is crucial, however, to give them a chance.
In light of these developments, the US has made its first contacts with HTS leaders. The UN and several countries are reconsidering their designation of the group as a terrorist organisation, provided certain conditions are met.
Arab countries such as Egypt, Iraq, Saudi Arabia, Jordan, and the UAE, have resumed diplomatic missions in Damascus.
Perhaps Syrians must witness genuine change from all sides and embrace compromise to reclaim and save our country.
Nobody knows what comes next. Syrians are filled with questions, uncertainty, and cautious hope. We celebrate a new Syria—but what will it become? Only time will tell.
Syrians have clear expectations: free democratic elections, personal freedom, freedom of expression, and the right to practice any religion or none. True freedom cannot exist without the liberation of women — their choices, bodies, and rights must be respected.
Ahmed Saqqa is one of the Syrians living in Ireland who spoke to the ‘Irish Examiner’ earlier this week about their hopes and fears in the wake of the fall of the Assad regime — see the links at the foot of this article. Picture: Chani Anderson
In a diverse Syria, imposing Sharia law is not only unthinkable — it is impossible. Its structure and its people simply won’t allow it. They will resist. Syria is a country rich in diversity — home to various nationalities, religions, and sects.
The majority of Muslims in Syria are moderate, and Islam there is distinct from the versions seen in Saudi Arabia or Iran. Syria’s strength lies in its diversity and moderation, with a robust secular movement and a resilient civil society. We must draw strength from this foundation.
The new Syria must be built on the pillars of human rights, freedom, justice, and equality for all. Without these foundations, resistance will persist, and the revolution will endure.
As a friend recently told me: “We toppled one dictator — we can topple any dictator.”
