Syria’s Uncertain Transition
A Crown Conversation with Nader Andrawos and Daniel Neep
Organized and edited by Ramyar D. Rossoukh, Associate Director for Research
October 9, 2025
On September 24, 2025, Syrian President Ahmad al-Sharaa became the first Syrian leader since 1967 to address the UN General Assembly—a moment that capped his rapid ascent and signaled Syria’s return from decades of isolation. But is the country witnessing real change or a return to authoritarianism? In this Crown Conversation, Crown fellows Nader Andrawos and Daniel Neep examine Syria’s uncertain transition and consider what it will take to govern a pluralist society, rebuild trust, and pursue justice after more than a decade of war. Looking beyond al-Sharaa himself, they explore how enduring inequalities of power, geography, and identity continue to shape Syria’s postwar politics, and the role that Syria’s resilient civil society can play in overcoming them.
Syrian President Ahmad al-Sharaa’s speech at the UN on September 24, 2025, drew widespread media attention. What stood out to you the most, and what might that reveal about Syria’s direction?
Daniel Neep: The UN speech was the culmination of a ten-month process of reinventing Syria. The press was quick to point out that it was the first time a Syrian president had addressed the General Assembly since 1967. So, it really did symbolize Syria’s coming in from the cold—not just al-Sharaa’s remarkable reinvention, but Syria rejoining the international community after decades of sanctions and isolation under the Assad regime.
It was also a remarkable piece of political theater, capped by al-Sharaa’s cozy conversation with David Petraeus, a surreal encounter between two men who faced each other in Iraq twenty years ago. The bonhomie was unexpected, especially given that only last December al-Sharaa had a $10 million bounty on his head.
Al-Sharaa showed his ability to capture global attention and to recast himself from hardline jihadi to pragmatic leader increasingly accepted by the international community. We saw this soon after the collapse of the Assad regime, when dignitaries began visiting Damascus even before his formal recognition.
The danger is that this focus on one individual distracts from Syria’s deeper problems: consolidating al-Sharaa’s administration and integrating the many fighters who once belonged to different militias into a unified security apparatus. The recent clashes in the Druze-majority region of al-Suwayda in southern Syria—which began as a local confrontation between Bedouin and Druze but escalated into major violence after the involvement of government-aligned security and tribal forces—show just how fragile that process remains. Many militias, though in theory disbanded, remain active, merely rebranded with government badges, and some of their members are more radical than al-Sharaa himself.
If we take him at face value, al-Sharaa may be interested in a more pragmatic and inclusive approach to governance, but that view isn’t necessarily shared by everyone who took part in the push toward Damascus that swept away the regime. The challenge is how he can balance international expectations—particularly around liberal freedoms, minority rights, and accountability—with the demands of his own hardline constituency, drawn from the movement he once led, Hay’at Tahrir al-Sham (HTS), and other factions. That tension will remain a central flash point as Syria moves forward.
Nader Andrawos: Of course, the speech was symbolic, but symbolism matters in politics. I agree with Daniel’s analysis, though I’ve been thinking more about domestic reactions inside Syria. Watching from afar, what stands out is how divisive al-Sharaa is as a figure. Even within Syria, people either love him or hate him. That divide doesn’t fall neatly along Islamist or secular lines. You’ll find liberal civil society figures who admire his pragmatism and skill, but overall, opinions remain deeply split, with little middle ground.
Because of that polarization, reactions to the UN speech have been starkly different. For some, it’s proof that Syria is finally being taken seriously on the world stage. For others, it’s a troubling sign of normalization with Israel and of growing foreign interference in the transition. These reactions depend largely on how people view al-Sharaa, which doesn’t follow clear ideological lines.
Many note the historical irony of al-Sharaa’s rise—two decades after Iraq, once pursued by the CIA—but the debate also centers on how he’ll handle Israeli attacks and normalization. I found it significant that he made clear Syria will not join the Abraham Accords. He wants peace talks and good relations, but on different terms, a notable statement that shows al-Sharaa is not just following a preset script but asserting some independence in Syria’s negotiating position. Still, it’s too early to know how this will play out, since there are so many moving parts.
Both of you have already touched on some of the challenges Syria faces in this postwar period. Let’s unpack that a bit—what do you see as the biggest obstacles ahead, in the short term and further down the line?
Andrawos: The most urgent issue is the question of minorities, which will shape what kind of governance, transition, and constitution Syria develops. Recent attacks on Alawite and Druze communities illustrate just how volatile the situation remains. In the case of the Alawites, the pretext was preventing figures from the old regime from returning to power. With the Druze, it centered on doubts about their loyalties, with accusations of disloyalty and incitement.
These dynamics reflect a deeper structural problem that has long defined Syrian politics: the centralization of power in Damascus. Since the 1950s, the postcolonial state has steadily centralized power in Damascus, despite Syria’s geographically and ethnically plural makeup. The challenge now is how to build a political system that can accommodate this diversity while governing effectively, and how to break with this long history of centralization. So far, al-Sharaa and HTS have failed to offer a convincing answer, relying on force to consolidate power.
Another major challenge is economic reconstruction. For most Syrians, this is the most immediate concern after years of devastation. There’s an urgent need to rebuild, but so far the signals point toward more privatization and a neoliberal approach. That’s a major shift from the Assad era and risks reinforcing an authoritarian, top-down restructuring rather than one that promotes inclusivity, pluralism, or a more democratic approach to economic transition. A more consultative process—one that includes a broader range of groups and interests—could help counter this dogmatic and technocratic approach to policy-making.
Neep: Future historians will look back at the first months of the post-Assad era and be surprised by two things. First, given the scale and brutality of the civil war, which lasted from 2011 to 2024 and left more than half a million dead and millions displaced, it’s remarkable there hasn’t been even more sectarian violence or retaliation against former regime elements. That’s not to minimize the ongoing tragedy of thousands of people killed by violence since the fall of the regime, but given the trajectory of violence throughout the civil war, things could have been much worse.
The other surprise for future historians may be that HTS didn’t impose a stricter form of religious rule. They’ve actually shown a degree of relative restraint, avoiding measures that go against the will of local populations. That likely stems from al-Sharaa and HTS’s earlier experience of quasi-governance in Idlib since 2017, where they had to manage the day-to-day necessities of governance and administration for a largely civilian population, many of whom were not ideologically aligned with them. That experience seems to have produced a certain pragmatism. [1] In Idlib, HTS eschewed efforts to Islamize the population, refrained from imposing the stricter provisions of Islamic law, and reassured Christians that they were integral parts of the local community.
The danger now isn’t simply the presence of jihadis in government, but rather a slide toward authoritarianism—the reconcentration of power in Damascus. The hastily convened National Dialogue in February 2025 offered little real discussion about Syria's future. We also see it in the fact that political parties remain banned and the upcoming parliamentary elections—voting started on October 5—won’t involve any genuine popular participation. Voting will occur through small district committees that nominate their own electoral colleges. Two-thirds of parliament will be chosen through this closed process, and the remaining third appointed directly by al-Sharaa, ostensibly to meet quotas for minorities and women. But in effect, the president controls the composition of parliament. Under the interim constitution, the legislature has limited abilities to hold ministers accountable and needs a two-thirds majority to overturn presidential decisions. So, power is already heavily stacked in al-Sharaa’s favor.
Meanwhile, there’s been little accountability for recent violence in the largely Alawi coastal areas and in the Druze-majority al-Suwayda governorate in southern Syria. The government has shown neither the capacity nor the will to ensure justice or rebuild public trust—a serious strategic error in the short and long term.
This point connects to the broader structural issues Nader mentioned that have defined Syrian politics for centuries—the tension between center and periphery. Syria is an extremely diverse society, and its local specificities run deep. Questions often understood in terms of minority or sectarian identity are also questions of geographic inequality: where power and resources are concentrated, which regions receive investment, and which are left behind. The political, sectarian, and economic dimensions are deeply intertwined.
So economic reconstruction isn’t just about GDP or infrastructure. It’s also about whether rebuilding can deliver social justice and address long-standing disparities between center and periphery and between different communities. In that sense, the short-, medium-, and long-term challenges are all connected.
How does the center–periphery tension apply to the northeast and the question of Kurdish autonomy?
Andrawos: Until the recent violence in Aleppo, this had been one of the few encouraging developments—the improvement in relations between the Syrian government and Kurdish groups. This rapprochement, largely mediated by Turkey, which also reached its own peace agreement with Kurdish forces there, reflected a move toward more pragmatic engagement. The latest clashes, however, underscore how fragile these gains remain.
Overall, I’m cautiously optimistic because Turkey’s handling of the post-Assad situation has been relatively responsible and conducive to dialogue. The broader challenge remains structural: what kind of government will emerge, and how Kurdish governance or autonomy will fit within it. But the Kurdish question can’t be separated from the center-periphery dynamics we’ve discussed.
Neep: In the northeast, an autonomous administration led by the Kurdish Democratic Union Party (PYD) faces many of the same challenges as Damascus—ensuring democratic governance, maintaining accountability, and avoiding authoritarian tendencies. But the PYD is only one party among many and doesn’t represent all Syrian Kurds or the broader population of the region.
For Damascus, the Kurdish issue isn’t an immediate priority. Historically, the northeast was a peripheral region, integrated with the more densely populated west of Syria only in the 1950s and 1960s, and that legacy persists. During the civil war, the Assad regime was content to let the PYD govern locally, assuming the northeast would eventually be reabsorbed. Genuine autonomy was never on the table. That logic still holds today. The priority for Damascus is managing unrest on the coast and in al-Suwayda, diplomacy, and securing reconstruction funds. The northeast can wait.
As for the future, there’s talk of incorporating the Syrian Democratic Forces (the Kurdish and Arab coalition that fought ISIS and now controls much of northeastern Syria) into the national army—perhaps giving its commander, Mazloum Abdi, a senior defense role. Whether that happens is uncertain. Kurdish cultural and language rights may prove less contentious over time, but much will depend on Damascus’s ties with Ankara. Al-Sharaa’s closeness to Turkey will inevitably shape his approach.
Looking back, are there historical moments that help explain Syria’s current governance dilemmas or offer lessons for a future transition?
Neep: This tension between center and periphery is something contemporary developments echo very strongly. Before and since independence, there has been a long history of elites in peripheral regions looking to outside powers for leverage in their dealings with Damascus. You saw it, for instance, in recurrent tensions between Damascus and the Druze leadership in al-Suwayda, as local elites sought to preserve their autonomy. Damascus, in turn, tried to play rival families against one another. In the 1940s and 1950s, for example, some of the leading Druze notables looked to Jordan for support—even threatening at one point to join the Hashemite kingdom.
Similar dynamics appeared elsewhere. Tribal leaders in the north also occasionally declared support for the Jordanian monarchy—never seriously intending to secede, but using those ties as a way to strengthen their bargaining position with Damascus. Various political and social factions looked to Jordan, Iraq, and Egypt, who all played that role at different times in the 1950s and 1960s.
You still see this pattern today. External powers continue to invoke the language of minority rights and autonomy to exert influence over Damascus. Israel, for instance, has highlighted the need to safeguard minority populations, particularly the Druze, as part of its broader argument for dividing Syria into ethno-confessional cantons. Of course, outside powers have their own interests in calling for the fragmentation of neighboring states.
Andrawos: Though not a Syrian episode, a historical parallel that immediately comes to mind is the experience of the Muslim Brotherhood in Egypt after Mubarak’s ouster in 2012. Both situations involve the challenge of creating unity in a context where the ruling force isn’t fully trusted and civil society remains deeply suspicious of the new government.
The difference is that the Brotherhood lacked a figure like al-Sharaa—someone charismatic, able to project unity, and to embody a broader national image. Whether al-Sharaa can succeed where they failed will depend on his ability to engage with Syria’s vibrant civil society, which has grown enormously since 2011. Across the country, grassroots networks have kept communities functioning amid state collapse. The same is true abroad, where Syrian organizations have been central to discussions of transition, human rights, and governance. Civil society in this sense is no longer just an ideal—it’s a material reality and a political force.
Until now, Islamist movements across the region have struggled to accommodate this reality. Syria’s transition will hinge on whether al-Sharaa and his allies can learn from that history and recognize that civil society is indispensable to state-building.
Neep: Just to build on that point, al-Sharaa’s experience in Idlib will likely prove crucial. HTS effectively ran the region without trying to monopolize everything. They created a technocratic “Salvation Government,” to run things while retaining overall control. As Nader mentioned, civil society has been extremely active in providing aid, education, and other local services.
The lesson HTS seems to have drawn from other religious groups in the region is: don’t take on too much. Maintain control of the instruments of power, but remain aloof from day-to-day decision-making to avoid blame when things go wrong. In a complex society, trying to control everything is impossible; better to be the guiding force in society from above.
It’s a model that monarchs in the Middle East have long implemented—remaining the symbolic figurehead of the nation while remaining separate from daily politics. Perhaps Syria will see the emergence of a religious presidential-style monarchy, a system that allows a degree of civil society activity and local autonomy but maintains strict red lines and ultimately preserves veto power in the hands of the ruler.
It’s arguably more appropriate to view Syria under al-Sharaa as an emerging authoritarian regime rather than a democratic transition. What’s next is likely to be a new form of authoritarian rule—one of a different hue from what we’ve seen elsewhere in the region.
How does all this connect to the question of transitional justice in Syria? Given the strength of civil society you’ve both described, what forms might justice take—and are there models that could help guide that process?
Andrawos: Transitional justice was explicitly mentioned in al-Sharaa’s constitutional declaration, which serves as an interim constitution, and debated in roundtables with him and among civil society groups, especially within the diaspora. The challenge is how to confront past abuses—committed not only by the Assad regime but also by Islamist and rebel groups—while enabling reconstruction and reconciliation.
Most experts and activists favor a holistic approach: prosecutions, truth commissions, and addressing the regime’s legacy of inequality. In May 2025, the government created a National Commission for Transitional Justice, signaling at least a formal commitment, but the process remains ongoing.
Regionally, the record offers little cause for optimism. Even Tunisia’s Truth and Dignity Commission, considered to be the region’s most sophisticated model, ultimately disappointed many. Its procedural approach to justice and accountability looked ideal–public televised hearings where former regime figures were tried and victims testified–but it failed to tackle structural and economic injustices.
What makes Syria different, and perhaps more hopeful, is the strength of its civil society. From early on, it has documented abuses, built networks, and prepared for this moment. The diaspora has played a crucial role, turning activism into civic work and using legal tools in their host countries to hold perpetrators accountable. A groundbreaking example is the Koblenz trial in Germany, where two former Syrian intelligence officers were convicted of crimes against humanity, the first case to hold Assad regime members accountable in court.
These initiatives could now help lead not only transitional justice in Syria but also constitution-making and governance. Unlike other post-conflict or post-revolutionary moments in the region, which usually happen when civil society is at its weakest, Syria today has accumulated experience, knowledge, and institutions ready to contribute to what many call the “New Republic.” Much will depend on whether al-Sharaa treats this as an opportunity rather than a threat.
Neep: I agree with Nader. Pursuing justice for war crimes and crimes against humanity through courts in Germany, the Netherlands, and other countries that offer universal jurisdiction is clearly important. But it’s just as crucial that Syrian courts be able to take up these questions. There has to be a process within Syria itself if public trust is to be rebuilt. The challenge, as Nader noted, is that we’ve yet to see this kind of transitional justice take root anywhere in the Middle East.
For more Crown Center publications and events on Syria and related themes, see: “Beyond Assad: The Rise of Hay’at Tahrir al-Sham and Syria’s Uncertain Future,” “The Home I Worked to Make: Voices from the New Syrian Diaspora,” and “After Ten Years of War, Who Rules Syria?”
Endnotes
[1] The key difference between HTS and groups like al-Qaeda is that al-Sharaa and his circle believe that a perfect Islamic society had to emerge through the will and consent of the population, not through coercion. Al-Qaeda in Iraq, by contrast, embraced the idea of total destruction or savagery—a situation of chaos, utter depravity, and violence—from which an Islamic state would supposedly rise like a phoenix from the ashes.
The opinions and findings expressed in this Conversation belong to the authors exclusively and do not reflect those of the Crown Center or Brandeis University.