The Roots of Fear, Suspicion, and Hatred
Trust is not a ready-made commodity in societies; rather, it is the fruit of historical accumulation, forged through long experience and suffering. Its cultivation is one of the main goals of religions, philosophies, stories, biographies, and myths shared across all human cultures.
Generally speaking, Syrian and Arab societies did not emerge from past centuries with a significant legacy of public trust. Historical despotism and the conditions of poverty and misery that prevailed in our societies for centuries dried up the springs of compassion and benevolence, marking relations between individuals with much harshness, cruelty, and selfishness, and reinforcing a tendency to retreat into local, sectarian, and ethnic particularisms.
The governments of military coups that succeeded one another after independence (1946) did not help overcome these negative effects; on the contrary, they reinforced them. The rule of the Assad regime and the security state it established ushered in an era of organized terror, systematic repression, and comprehensive surveillance, posing a moral and political test for everyone and further eroding trust in relations between individuals, and between them and the ruling authority and the state itself.
The security state crushed the slightest margins of freedom and social solidarity, disabling essential mediating and interactive institutions such as political parties, trade unions, associations, forums, and independent media. It transformed the Syrian from a "political being," a citizen, into an "isolated individual" who fears the state and his peers. Suspicion became the basis of interaction, silence the language of survival, and isolation a substitute for communication.
Under the comprehensive security system, society was rebuilt on foundations of fear, suspicion, and mistrust. Informing on others and demonstrating loyalty became tools for survival, lying a means of advancement, and opportunism a condition for safety. Moral values were redefined in a perverse way, so that the honorable were punished and the sycophants rewarded. Fear became a pervasive culture, and free, horizontal relationships between individuals were replaced by vertical ties based on submission, clientelism, and sectarianism. The regime succeeded in emptying national identity of its meaning in favor of fragmented identities, transforming religious and ethnic diversity into a tool of control, and terrorism into a political strategy, thus eradicating all self-confidence and public trust.
The war of extermination waged by the regime to suppress the popular uprising (2011), after forty years of brutal rule, destroyed and fragmented society itself through both physical and psychological violence. The state, in its profound sense and with its institutions, was undermined, politics was uprooted, and the entire population was divided between criminal killers and displaced, desperate victims searching for refuge. Any meaning of community, law, civility, patriotism, and politics collapsed. All parties emerged from this veritable inferno shattered and devastated, both materially and morally: neither the killer nor the victim remained unscathed. In place of trust and hope for the restoration of dignity, unity, and national life, there remained a heavy legacy of hatred, resentment, pain, and unresolved grievances. The entire society entered a state of complete paralysis and mournful rumination, awaiting the unknown, while the ruling class transformed into a mafia-like gang engaged in drug trafficking and the trade of human organs.
The physical and moral war of extermination waged by the regime against the protests of a wounded people not only destroyed the spirit of society and the state, but also annihilated the very meaning of humanity. This material and moral devastation was exacerbated by the international community's abandonment of its responsibilities during fourteen years of systematic killing and indiscriminate bombing. The despair and hopelessness were further intensified by the confusion and inability of the Syrian political and cultural elites to understand and cooperate in confronting the bloody ordeal. This war, waged above and below ground, on the battlefields, within the state, in the media and culture, and on the body of every Syrian, not only destroyed social structures and institutions but also reshaped social memory itself. Words lost their meaning: "revolution," "homeland," "freedom," rendering the vocabulary of politics, ethics, and trust devoid of any substance. Language itself, the primary tool of communication, lost its function and coherence, and the meanings of its words were altered. Words became another battleground, perpetuating division. When language becomes a battlefield, there is no longer any meaning to truth or humanity; the words themselves transform into bullets, imposing silence, isolation, fear, and disappearance on everyone.
Unfortunately, this decaying corpse of a genocidal war has not found anyone willing to bury it, cover it with earth, and free Syrians from its foul stench.
Among the first to exploit it are the governments and international parties that want Syria to remain weak, divided, and preoccupied with its sectarian and ethnic conflicts, foremost among them Israel and some local parties and militias that believe they have an interest in the collapse of the Syrian state and the division of its assets.
Also participating in this stance are figures who lost their positions with the collapse of the previous regime, and other opposition figures who have become disillusioned with participation and do not want the current authority to succeed in consolidating its power and establishing a fanatical religious authority that contradicts their interests and beliefs. They are exploiting widespread fear and distrust to mobilize segments of the fearful public to force the authorities to acknowledge their existence and open the doors of participation to them.
But the most important party is the new authority itself. There is no doubt that many of these parties and their supporters see this societal division and lack of trust as nothing more than an opportunity to seize the automatic loyalty of a ready-made religious majority, and to isolate and marginalize religious, social, and political groups. This helps them cover up the significant internal and external difficulties they face, for which they have no clear answers. It also provides them with a broad and reliable social base without incurring the high costs associated with respecting civil and political rights, granting public freedoms, and securing decent living conditions for a population whose majority is struggling in a sea of poverty, destitution, and hopelessness. Hence the focus on victory and the disregard for the suffering of the victims.
Can trust be restored among Syrians?
Just as the lack of trust is not a natural disaster, restoring it does not require a miracle, but rather good will that holds the conflicting parties, who are invested in perpetuating this distrust within the state and society, accountable for their actions.
Restoring trust in society is not merely an emotional or moral process, but a foundational political act: it is the first condition for building a political community that fosters hope in humanity and in its capacity for cooperation to achieve the common good, and therefore a condition for building modern citizenship. The collapse of trust in Syria was nothing more than the other side of the coin of the demise of politics.
When power is reduced to brute force, and society is reduced to inherited sectarian identities, and individuals are transformed into loyalists and henchmen, trust loses all meaning. It cannot be restored unless people are given back their right to act, to speak, and to receive justice. Trust, as I mentioned, is not a ready-made cultural given, but rather the product of a collective experience of shared life and constructive and positive interaction among individuals. Only when Syrians feel that their voices are heard, that their lives are respected, and that the law exists to protect their rights, not to subjugate and control them, will values regain their meaning, despair and hopelessness recede, and trust begin to reappear. To achieve this, the following is necessary:
1. Acknowledging the injustice suffered by the victims and their right to moral and actual compensation. Ignoring this duty, as if nothing had happened, not only keeps resentments alive but also prevents the perpetrators from acknowledging their crimes, leading them to continue believing that what they did was justified, and allowing them to portray themselves as victims and the wronged, thus becoming remnants of a resistance against the new order. The new authority had to begin with this task: declaring a week of mourning for the victims of genocide and crimes against humanity, allowing them the opportunity to unburden themselves of the deep trauma they had suffered, to tell their stories, and to feel that the entire nation, not just the perpetrators, acknowledged their sacrifices and that these sacrifices were given the noble meaning they deserved. This acknowledgment cannot be overlooked or bypassed. It is the most precious aspect of justice and a condition for ending the mourning and closing the most prominent, psychological and moral, part of the genocide file.
2. Achieving justice and accountability according to the law, distinguishing between holding perpetrators accountable for their crimes, arresting and prosecuting the main culprits, and addressing historical or recent collective grievances. Amnesty without acknowledgment or moral compensation for the victims only increases resentment and does not alleviate it.
Justice is not achieved by generalizing the crime to entire groups and sects. Civil rights are individual rights. Generalizing them to entire communities under the guise of grievance does not help resolve the issue, but rather intensifies it by turning it into a tool of collective blackmail that obstructs true justice.
There is certainly sectarian discrimination, and it should be condemned and addressed. However, it is a separate and distinct issue that should be dealt with at the political, cultural, and religious levels, not conflated with the issue of crime in the strict sense of the word. There are no specific penalties or compensations for grievances in the law; rather, there are perpetrators and victims from all communities, as well as innocent people among them. Generalizing grievances undermines justice because it lumps together criminals and innocent people in the judgment and extends the accusation to individuals who had no role in the crime, which is a crime in itself. It may also allow criminals to escape accountability in the name of the perceived oppression of their communities.
3- Rebuilding the public sphere. Trust only grows in shared spaces: associations, unions, civil platforms, municipalities, and cultural forums. The more people engage in collective action outside of narrow sectarian divisions, the more individuals and groups will trust each other and themselves. Every successful collective initiative, no matter how small, helps repair a broken thread of trust.
4- Assisting and encouraging individuals to move beyond the logic of closed identities to the logic of inclusive citizenship. This can only be achieved to the extent that this citizenship embodies richer, more diverse, and more meaningful rights, freedoms, opportunities, and a brighter future. This requires an inclusive national discourse, a new form of civic education, and a redefinition of "we" as an open political community, not one where its components fear each other and compete to divide the spoils of the state. Trust is not built between closed identities, but between citizens who are equal in rights and responsibilities.
5- Supporting the local and cooperative economy. Trust does not grow through slogans, but through people's participation in work, production, and creativity. Cooperative projects and community economic initiatives serve as laboratories for generating practical trust and confirming that individuals' interests are interconnected.
6- Building trust involves constructing a new national narrative that acknowledges multiple forms of suffering, seeks a shared understanding of what happened, and replaces the conflicting narratives generated by the war, in which each side focuses on its own unique sense of grievance. This does not mean denying the uniqueness of individual narratives, but rather encompassing them within a single, pluralistic, and truthful narrative that allows people to see each other as human beings, not as enemies.
7- Trust cannot be rebuilt through speeches and promises, or through government decrees and decisions, but rather through the development of new and diverse social initiatives, and the emergence of honest local leaders and new, transparent, inspiring, and sincere elites—intellectuals, political actors, and activists—capable of representing values, not defending private interests, and of fostering solidarity, not declaring political and ideological guardianship. This means: through the accumulation of daily ethical and political actions that help discover the meaning of truth, justice, right, dignity, and citizenship. This is primarily the responsibility of the state, as the guardian of revealing the truth, upholding justice, and affirming the rule of law, just as it is the responsibility of all those concerned with repairing social relations, clearing away the heavy legacy of the past, and liberating the conscience shackled by chains of doubt, suspicion, and the death of hope and spirit.
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