When Zain and dozens of other civil society activists staged a sit-in outside Damascus’s shuttered parliament to protest against sectarian violence in southern Syria last month, they were first insulted by passers-by, then attacked.
Young men carrying wooden sticks descended upon the group, according to multiple people present, accusing them of defending “traitors” from Sweida’s Druze community, which was embroiled in clashes with Sunni Bedouin tribes and government forces that killed hundreds of people.
“The youths who attacked us kept shouting ‘We are not Syrians, we are tribes’,” Zain said, describing how they tore up protesters’ signs that included slogans such as “Syrian blood on Syrian hands is forbidden”.
“They kept yelling . . . [we are] ‘Sunnis, Sunnis’,” she said.
READ MORE
The 34-year-old was among the many who cautiously welcomed Sunni Islamist rebel leader Ahmed al-Sharaa in December, euphoric at the ousting of dictator Bashar al-Assad and the opportunity to rebuild the shattered nation — even if she disagreed with Sharaa’s ideology.
But the jubilation that characterised those early days has been slowly replaced by sectarian tension and a burgeoning Sunni populism.
This has been subtly encouraged by the new Islamist rulers, who have stoked majoritarian feeling by comparing their reign to that of Damascus’s 8th-century Sunni Umayyad Dynasty, while their supporters have become less tolerant of criticism.
“Whereas in 2011, the masses backed the protesters,” Zain said, referring to the popular uprising against Assad that led to the civil war, “today they are betraying [them].”
Last month’s violence in Sweida severely undermined the cautious faith many Syrians had placed in Sharaa. The national mood has instead darkened, leaving many — including Sunnis, who make up approximately two-thirds of the 25 million population — asking whether Sharaa will foster national unity or sectarian strife.
Syria’s patchwork of ethnic and religious groups, which include other Muslims, Druze and Christians, were often pitted against each other during 50 years of brutal minority rule under the Assads, themselves part of the Shia offshoot Alawite sect.
Sunni rebels formed the backbone of the revolt that started in 2011, and many Sunnis were forced either to submit to the regime or flee during the war. This power dynamic has reversed dramatically since Assad’s ousting by Sharaa, Syria’s first Sunni leader in decades.
[ The secret history of Syria’s new leader, Ahmed al-SharaaOpens in new window ]
Sharaa, whose rebel group was once a former al-Qaeda affiliate, has promised to protect minority rights and govern inclusively. But analysts say he has done little to subdue the growing sense of Sunni nationalism, in part because it is a useful tool with which to placate his base.
“It gives Sharaa’s Islamist project a more nationalist bent and endears him to the streets, who have long awaited Sunni rule,” said Malik al-Abdeh, a London-based Syrian analyst.
The more extreme elements in Sharaa’s base view other sects and religions as heretics, while his former rebel group Hayat Tahrir al-Sham — veterans of which make up the core of Syria’s security forces — had a history of abuses against Christians and Druze.
Some minorities increasingly fear they are vulnerable. “Sunnis feel that they are the victors, that they are not only the majority but also now powerful rulers,” said Amal Georges, a 56-year-old Christian shopkeeper in Damascus.
“All of my Sunni friends, they’re ignoring the bad stuff this government is doing because they don’t want to give up on this sense of victory,” she said. “So as minorities, we are being made to feel like we are their subjects and that we have to walk on eggshells around them or they will punish us.”
The first major flare-up came in March, when clashes between government forces and pro-Assad Alawite forces in coastal regions spiralled into killings of civilians in which more than 1,400 people died.
The government, eager to restore confidence, ordered an investigation into the violence. It later concluded some state security forces participated in mass atrocities.
National outrage was limited in part because of the involvement of Alawite insurgents still seen as supporters of the Assad regime. But many Syrians are finding it harder to overlook the killings in Sweida.
Government forces, sent in to quell the violence, were accused of participating in reprisal killings against the Druze. Israel in turn launched strikes against Sharaa’s security forces in the name of defending the minority, further inflaming divisions and mistrust.
Druze residents told the Financial Times that sectarian killings of civilians were rampant, particularly following the arrival of Sunni tribes from other parts of the country to defend their Bedouin brethren.
One video from Sweida shows what appear to be government fighters asking a bloodied man on the ground if he is Druze or Sunni. The man replies only that he’s Syrian — an answer that leads to him being shot to death.
While there were reports of atrocities conducted by all sides, including Druze militias, such videos horrified people across Syria.
“I have been a fan of Sharaa’s and as a Sunni, I am proud of what he’s been trying to do. But that video broke my faith in him a bit,” said Abdallah Omar, a 24-year-old university student in Aleppo.
“I’m not saying the massacres are his fault completely — but he is showing that he cannot control his own people or maybe that he doesn’t want to ... Is he actually here to make Syria better? I don’t know anymore.”
Sharaa’s government has tried to win back support, condemning the reported violations and announcing an investigation similar to the one conducted after the massacres in March.
He also announced parliamentary elections will take place in September, with a third of the 210 seats allocated by him — including for areas not currently under government control such as Sweida and the Kurdish-run northeast.
But yet more violence last week — such as clashes between government fighters and Kurdish-led forces — has further derailed Sharaa’s efforts to unify the country.
For some Syrians, it is too late. Hossam, a 52-year-old Druze teacher, worked for months with members of Sweida’s secular movement to call for more inclusive governance, including free and fair elections, a national dialogue and a constitution.
“They refused everything,” Hossam said. “People who just lost loved ones in this violence: you want to tell them to work with [Sharaa’s] government? They will never accept it.”
“We are Syrians ... But today, we cannot accept that these terrorists are governing us from Damascus. If we deal with them, it means we will sign our death warrants. And that is impossible.”
- Copyright The Financial Times Limited 2025
