Syria’s minorities fear Iraq-style sectarian chaos after regime change

DAMASCUS, Syria - Daniel Sulaiman, 25, canceled his plans to return from Dubai to his Syrian hometown of Tartous to celebrate the first Christmas, following the ouster of the iron-fisted President Bashar al-Assad, with his loved ones.

He said his family and friends had advised him not to return due to growing tensions between the Sunni majority and his Alawite community, from which Assad hailed. 

Sulaiman described a security vacuum where old scores are being settled with one incident involving a friend who was shot by someone over a petty dispute from years ago. He survived sustaining a shoulder wound. 

"Everyone is settling old scores," Daniel said via video call from Dubai, planning to move his family abroad for good. "There is no one to secure you yet. Everyone can do anything. There is chaos everywhere," he added.

Members of the Alawite community, including Daniel, confirmed that towns predominantly inhabited by Alawites are heavily armed to deter potential attacks from Islamist rebels or individuals with grudges from Assad's time.

Alawites, an offshoot of Shia Islam, hold unique beliefs like the divine nature of Ali ibn Abi Talib, which differentiates them from mainstream Shia and Sunni Muslims, who see him merely as a human caliph.

Despite fears of sectarian violence akin to Iraq's post-Saddam era, Syria has not seen widespread religion-based violence since Assad's removal.

"We've already experienced what Iraq went through," Sulaiman said, referring to the Sunni-led uprising of the past 13 years. 

Many hope that Syria will be spared Iraq’s post-Saddam sectarian bloodshed and the transitional leader has pledged to protect all segments of society regardless of ethnic or religious backgrounds. 

"It's the state's duty to protect all components of Syrian society," Ahmed Sharaa, better known by his nom de guerre Abu Mohammed al-Jolani, said during a recent meeting with a Lebanese delegation representing the Druze religious minority, who live primarily in Lebanon and Syria.

Fearing an uncertain future, many Druze residents of Suwayda near the Israeli border have called for annexation of their region to Israel. The Druze are a non-Islamic religious minority estimated at one million, with nearly 150,000 of them living in Israel as citizens.  

In July, an alleged Hezbollah rocket attack killed 12 Druze members including children in Syria's Golan Heights, occupied by Israel.

A 23-year-old Druze woman in Damascus, who asked not to be identified for safety reasons, said she was more afraid of threats from the country’s new Sunni rulers to personal freedoms than to her religious group.

"They said, for example, in Islamic Sharia, it's forbidden for a guy and a girl who aren't from the same family to go out together," she said. "So I'm afraid that might be imposed." 

She added that her Druze identity isn't visible from her name alone, unlike that of the Alawites, who fear recognition due to their distinct names and accents from the coastal cities of Tartus and Latakia where they're concentrated.

"Things are a bit scary now for me to say I'm Alawite," said a 21-year-old Alawite student at Tishreen University in Latakia, who also requested anonymity because of discussing potentially sensitive issues. He noted that he had a neutral name. "I can't just say I'm Alawite because it's scary."

Since Assad fled to Russia three weeks ago, no group has faced more violence than the Kurds, attacked by Turkey-backed Sunni Arab rebels allied with Hayat Tahrir al-Sham (HTS), who captured Damascus. 

The US mediated a truce last week, but it doesn’t seem to be holding as clashes continue near Manbij. The Kurds, leading the US-backed Syrian Democratic Forces (SDF), say they are open to talks with the new government and have adopted the green, white, and black flag, replacing Assad’s red, white, and black one. 

Sharaa demands the disarmament of all rebel groups, including the Kurds, who appear reluctant to comply with that demand and seek autonomy in the predominantly Kurdish northeast.

On Monday, more vehicles were seen leaving Syria for Lebanon than entering. No data exists on the post-Assad exodus, despite calls for refugees to return and rebuild. Damascus feels less of these tensions, appearing festive with Christmas decorations.

At the Church of the Holy Cross in Damascus, Christmas trees with fluorescent lights prepare for the holiday. Masses proceed normally.

But some Christians like Shakib Elias Alam say it’s too early to predict the future. 

"I need to see tangible actions, not just promises or statements," Shakib Elias Alam, a 50-year-old Damascene, told Rudaw at the church during a funeral. I want to see secularism and freedom. I want to see the services that we were deprived of. I want to see education. I want to see all the things that are in society.”

Leaning against the white fence at al-Marjeh Square (aka Martyrs' Square) in Damascus, where a monument is decked with pictures of missing men, Qasan Hussein al-Dandah, a carpenter from Homs, didn’t hide his Sunni identity. He said he was still searching for the whereabouts of his two brothers who were in their 20s when taken by the regime more than a decade ago.

In 2014, he located one of them at the Farooj prison in Homs and has since spent much of his money on 'wasta' or bribes to secure his release, to no avail.

He said the former regime intentionally deepened sectarian divisions by putting members of his sect in pivotal government and security positions and spreading fear among the Alawites that their women won’t be safe if the regime was gone. 

“Most of the checkpoints were controlled by the Alawite sect,” he said. “They were the ones who detained young men. No one from another sect could even speak up during those days.”

On building an inclusive Syria without sectarianism, he hoped, “Inshallah, it will be like that.”

 

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