As Syria’s new Islamist-led government claims reform, women and minorities brace for a rollback in their rights.
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Inside a dimly lit, smoke-filled bar in Damascus, a Syrian woman sitting to my left told me she was frightened.
“Of what?” I asked.
“Of our new government. Religious extremists, you must understand, are terrifying people,” explained the woman, who spoke only on the condition of anonymity. “Most of them are like that. Religious extremists, I mean. They generally do not like minorities. And they certainly don’t believe in the rights of women.”
Last December, Hayat Tahrir al-Sham (HTS), an Islamist militant group, launched a sudden offensive that sent shockwaves through the region. One by one, major cities began to fall—first Aleppo, then Hama, and soon Homs—as the rebels pushed their way closer to Damascus, Syria’s capital. President Bashar al-Assad’s regime, which had survived well over a decade of civil war thanks to the likes of Iranian and Russian backing, found itself increasingly unable to deter the rebels’ advances; Iran was tangled up in its own proxy battles with Israel, while Russia was stretched thin with its war in Ukraine. In other words, Assad was on his own. The rebels, it seemed, understood this, and so they seized their chance. Damascus fell in a matter of days, and Assad fled to Moscow.
Initially, the ousting of Assad—a ruthless authoritarian notorious for using chemical weapons on his own people and overseeing a network of brutal political prisons, like the infamous “human slaughterhouse” at Sednaya—was widely celebrated across much of Syria.
Syrian activist Rabi’ah Mustafa Saliba recalled that “at first people were ecstatic [when Assad fell]. Fireworks, dancing in the streets. Burning Assad propaganda murals. Just huge celebrations that, finally, 50 years of the Assads was over. Finally, the Syrian people could be free.”
Saliba is a local activist, self-described feminist, and a practicing Sunni Muslim, like most of the HTS. She danced and cheered in the streets as the rebels stormed into Damascus, but admitted that many of her friends who weren’t Sunnis didn’t exactly share her enthusiasm. “My friends who are Shia, Christian, and Druze have been very cautious. They don’t know if they can trust this new government either.”
While HTS and its leader, Ahmed al-Sharaa—now Syria’s de facto president—originated as an al-Qaeda affiliate with early ties to Islamic State leader Abu Bakr al-Baghdadi, their story is more complicated, especially today. Since Assad’s fall, Sharaa has undergone a strategic political makeover, rebranding himself as a moderate who promises to form an inclusive government that represents the country’s mosaic of different ethnic, religious, and linguistic groups. The move to distance himself from his jihadist past is a calculated political one aimed at convincing the world — particularly the U.S. and Europe—to lift sanctions on Syria, the harshest of which have been in place since the start of the civil war in 2011. The oil, construction, and banking sectors have taken an especially hard blow, which, in turn, has stymied efforts to rebuild both Syria’s infrastructure and economy. If Sharaa is successful in convincing global powers of his reformed government, it could give Syria a chance to address its hyperinflation and widespread poverty as well as regain the public’s trust.
And to be fair, Sharaa’s new government has made some notable moves as of late. It appointed several women to key positions, including Maysaa Sabreen as the first-ever female head of Syria’s Central Bank, Aisha al-Dibs to lead the newly established Women’s Affairs Office, and Mushina al-Mahithawi, the first woman to ever serve as governor of Suwaida.
Still, some remain worried that Sharaa’s new government might revert to the strict, conservative Sharia law–style governance it imposed while controlling Idlib during the war.
The woman I spoke to at the bar most definitely felt this way. She said that at least under Assad, women had the legal right to vote, access to education, and could work. HTS-controlled Idlib, however, was a different story. Women’s rights were largely erased. Political participation was nonexistent, while social and economic freedom was severely restricted. Education, too, was gender-segregated and revolved primarily around religious studies.
“Of course, I didn’t like Assad,” she told me that night. “But at least he wasn’t a religious extremist.”
The question for Syria’s many minority groups, including women, is how to chart an inclusive course toward a future that legitimately—not symbolically—serves the needs and rights of all citizens. The challenge, Saliba argues, lies in building a post-Assad Syria that not only recognizes but elevates the voices of every community.
I was wandering through Damascus’s Christian quarter when I saw them. Leading the charge was a white Toyota pickup truck, followed by a fleet of revving motorcycles. It was a procession of Syria’s new regime: former HTS fighters turned soldiers. One man stood in the truck bed, shouting into a microphone that was blasted across loudspeakers: “Convert to Islam.” The bearded men on motorcycles, clad in black, echoed the same message as they roared by.
For Sharaa, reigning in the more provocative hardliners like the ones described above will be a challenge. Unlike some of the jihadists beneath him, Sharaa seems to have pivoted away from this line of thinking.
He’s said that Christians are “an essential part of the fabric of Syrian society.” He also assured the Kurds there will be “no more injustices against the Kurdish people,” and has even integrated the Kurdish-led SDF into Syria’s new military. In late January, the new government supposedly stymied an Islamic State car bomb attack at the Sayida Zainab mosque, a Shiite shrine in the capital. And, of course, the inclusion of some women in politics is a heartening sign that Sharaa is serious about this rebranding.
“I do understand the fear that many Syrians have about our new government,” said Fatinah Nasr Adil, a primary school teacher and civil rights advocate. “Although so far, things have been mostly okay. But it’s important that us activists keep pressuring (Sharaa) if we want to guarantee the rights we as women deserve.”
Adil went on to tell me that Syria’s bigger concerns lie outside of the post-Assad government. She argues that the lifting of international sanctions—and, perhaps more urgently, foreign interference—pose even greater threats to Syria’s future.
Israel, for instance, has been lobbying the Trump administration to keep Syria “weak.” So far, Israel appears adamant on undermining Sharaa’s attempts to heal his war-torn country. As of now, it’s unclear whether Trump will adopt Israel’s proposals—though he most likely will, given his administration’s zealous, unfettered support for Israeli Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu.
Syria’s new government isn’t the only one with its fair share of religious hardliners and fanatics—so too does the United States and, for that matter, Israel.
Israeli Defense Minister Yoav Gallant described Palestinians as “human animals” in justification for his “total siege” on the Gaza Strip after the October 7, 2023 Hamas attack. Netanyahu said Gaza was “the city of evil” and has described Palestinians as the Biblical people of Amalek—a people who must be destroyed. Although such examples barely scratch the surface of what is a growing problem of Israeli religious extremism.
Similarly, in the U.S., another form of religious extremism has taken root in the highest levels of Washington. Mike Huckabee, Trump’s U.S. ambassador to Israel, has said that “there’s really no such thing as a Palestinian.” Huckabee supports the notion of Israel annexing the West Bank and subscribes to the Christian prophecy of Israel’s role in triggering the Second Coming of Christ and the apocalypse. Credible reports of a drunk Pete Hegseth, Trump’s Secretary of Defense, on a morning in Ohio in 2015 chanting “Kill All Muslims! Kill All Muslims!” has been widely circulated. Trump has also established a “White House faith office,” which will be led by Paula White—a tongue-speaking televangelist millionaire who recently made headlines for a video she posted ahead of Easter. In the video, White offers “seven supernatural blessings,” as well as a personal angel, for anyone willing to fork over $1,000.
Regarding Syria, however, no member of the Trump administration is as eyebrow-raising as Tulsi Gabbard, who Trump appointed as director of national intelligence. Once a darling of the Democratic Party, Gabbard has since become a key figure in the MAGA orbit.
In 2017, Gabbard, then a Hawaii congresswoman, secretly traveled to Syria for a clandestine, and wildly controversial, sit-down with Assad. What the two discussed is anyone’s guess. Although the true essence of her eyebrow-raising meeting lay not in the words she spoke with him, but in what she later relayed to the world about the Syrian civil war itself. Gabbard echoed the Syrian—and, for that matter, Russian—lie that opposition to Assad wasn’t coming from rebel groups interested in a more democratic Syria, like the Free Syrian Army, but from extremist groups like al-Qaeda and the Islamic State.
Shortly after, Gabbard posted a three-minute YouTube video about her trip, which showed footage of bombed-out buildings and maimed Syrians who she portrayed in the video as victims of “terrorist” rebels. While it’s true that groups like the Islamic State have committed a litany of heinous crimes, Gabbard’s video was misleading, to say the least. It didn’t incriminate Assad or his Russian allies whatsoever, who, according to the U.K.-based Syrian Network for Human Rights, are responsible for over 90 percent of the estimated 228,893 civilians killed in the civil war, as of 2022.
In 2015, two years before her meeting with Assad, Gabbard and other House members went on a congressional trip to the Syrian-Turkish border. Leading the trip was Mouaz Moustafa, a Washington-based anti-regime activist and executive director of the Syrian Emergency Task Force. On the trip, Gabbard and her colleagues met with refugees who had to flee their homes as a result of constant Syrian and Russian bombings.
According to Moustafa, Gabbard met a group of young girls who’d been injured in an Assad airstrike. Gabbard, however, was unconvinced by their stories.
“How do you know it was Assad or the Russians who did the bombings?” she reportedly asked the girls. “How do you know it wasn’t ISIS?”
Moustafa pointed out the obvious: ISIS had no air capabilities. Gabbard’s response, Moustafa told POLITICO, “was shocking, appalling.” He also described it as “ludicrous,” adding that: “We know ISIS doesn’t have airplanes. We know that these little girls have no reason to lie.”
More recently, Fox News described Gabbard’s Senate confirmation hearing as “prophetic” after she said: “I have no love for Assad or any dictator. I just hate al-Qaeda. I hate that our leaders cozy up to Islamist extremists, calling them ‘rebels,’ as Jake Sullivan said to Hillary Clinton, ‘al-Qaeda is on our side in Syria.’ Syria is now controlled by al-Qaeda offshoot HTS, led by an Islamist jihadist who danced in the streets on 9/11, and who was responsible for the killing of many American soldiers.”
Gabbard’s so-called prophetic foresight was, to some, validated after hundreds were killed along the Syrian coastline in March. The coastal cities of Latakia and Tartus are strongholds for pro-Assad supporters, largely consisting of Alawites, the same sect to which Assad belongs. An Assadist insurgency was reportedly mounting in the region, prompting HTS fighters to step in and squash it. What followed was several days of widespread killing as the situation spiraled out of control.
Things online began spiraling out of control as well. Posts began circulating on social media and even on prominent news sites claiming that a “Christian massacre” was unfolding in Syria, and at the hands of an “Islamic terrorist government,” no less.
“Why no outrage from the government and mainstream media?” one X user wrote on the platform. “More than 1,000 Christians have been killed since Thursday and no one cares!”
Scores of other users began calling it a genocide of Syria’s Christians. Eventually, Elon Musk chimed in, writing on X: “Is that what happened?”
The answer is no, that is not what happened. Many are now concerned that widespread misinformation, coupled with oversimplifications from people like Gabbard, could ironically spark sectarian violence within Syria. Or, just as concerning, dissuade foreign governments from lifting sanctions.
“What happened on the coast is very bad, yes, but it is not what people are saying it was online,” Saliba said. “I’m so worried that this sort of misinformation will discourage people from wanting to lift sanctions on us. We so desperately need them lifted.”
She then added: “If the world doesn’t let us rebuild, we will slip back into chaos. And if that happens, minority rights and women’s rights will only get worse.”
Contrary to people like Gabbard, some experts believe there is a gradient of optimism to be found in Sharaa’s new government. Elham Ashour, a women’s rights defender and director of Souriana Al-Amal Organization, is one such person. She believes the new government offers an opportunity for real, tangible change.
Ashour argues that since Assad fled, women’s participation has occurred on two levels. The first, she says, is the informal level.
“Here, women’s involvement is significant and highly visible,” Ashour told me. “Many women who had been away from politics or civil affairs have re-engaged and become active again.”
She notes the surge of women who have gotten more vocal in politics, trying to influence the new government, calling for civil peace, documentation, humanitarian aid, and discussions around sanctions, advocating for what she describes as fairer alternatives. “Although this work is informal—meaning outside of official government structures—it is effective and impactful. The voices from these spaces are reaching decision-makers and donors, and are contributing to shaping more just and accurate understandings of government performance, while also pushing for real reforms.”
Though on the formal level, the situation remains an uphill battle.
“The government tends to choose women who align with its view or who don’t pose a challenge to its agenda,” she said. “While they claim to value diversity, in practice they appoint women from one political color or perspective—whether pro-government or aligned with a specific revolutionary view.”
Another Syrian woman I spoke with fled the country as a refugee before settling in Germany. Her name is Mariam, though she requested her surname be omitted. Over a WhatsApp exchange, Mariam told me that Syrian women haven’t tasted real freedom, not then and still not now.
“To be honest with you, Ryan, in my eyes, women in Syria don’t have their full freedom and rights, which is really sad because they’ve never experienced what it feels like to have full rights, to speak freely about whatever they want or even to feel safe,” she wrote. “In my opinion, they don’t have their full rights because of religion. So, even after the conflict, if the people don’t improve in terms of their religious mindset, nothing will really change for women.”
Among many of Syria’s minority groups, including women, there is a palpable concern that the new government’s facade of moderation is just that: a façade. Like the girl in the bar, some worry the government hasn’t shed its hardline religious skin—it’s just gotten much better at PR.
While speaking to people outside Bakdash, Damascus’s famous ice cream parlor, I struck up a conversation with a local Yazidi woman. She, too, agreed to be in the article, on the condition that we not include her surname, to ensure her safety. Anonymity is in high demand lately. There isn’t—at least not yet—an explicitly tangible reason to conceal one’s identity while speaking candidly. Though it does speak to many people’s fears of what they worry is an authoritarian undertone among their new rulers.
The woman, whose name was Gulizar, said that when the rebels toppled the Assad regime last December, “I didn’t leave my bed for four days. That’s how scared I was.”
Being a Yazidi, Gulizar couldn’t help but be haunted by the memories of the Yazidi genocide carried out by the Islamic State group on Iraq’s Sinjar Mountain in 2014. The crisis, still fresh in her mind, left deep scars on her community—scars that are still impossible to forget.
“That’s why I’m so against religious extremism, especially in government,” she told me.
When HTS took Damascus, she wondered if what happened to her fellow Yazidis in neighboring Iraq—mass slaughter, forced conversion, sexual slavery—could happen to her and her family in Damascus.
“We all knew that (Sharaa) was connected to Baghdadi. We knew that (HTS) was connected in some ways to (the Islamic State),” she added.
Eventually the conversation changed course, and the subject of my nationality surfaced. Somewhat discreetly, I disclosed to her that I was an American. To this, she smirked.
“Oh, so you must feel the same way as me.”
“What do you mean?” I asked.
Gulizar reminded me that it wasn’t just her new government that people ought to fret over regarding the treatment of women and minorities.
“I think you kind of have your own version of HTS in America,” she laughed. “It is called Donald Trump.”