Promises

Upon seizing power in December 2024, interim President Ahmed al-Sharaa (formerly known by his nom de guerre Abu Mohammad al-Jolani) vowed to revive Syria’s devastated economy and move away from the cronyism of the Assad era. His new Islamist-led administration pledged to “reconstruct the country after 13 years of brutal civil war” and abandon the “highly centralised and corrupt economic system where Assad’s cronies held sway”. Al-Sharaa identified economic revival as a top priority, emphasizing the need to reunify the country and lift it out of the chokehold of international sanctions. He swiftly courted foreign aid, making trips to Saudi Arabia and Turkey to seek funds for reconstruction and to “revive [the] economy”. The new government also launched a high-profile anti-corruption campaign: it froze the assets and bank accounts of dozens of Assad-linked business tycoons and set up a fact-finding committee to scrutinize their billion-dollar empires. This was billed as a genuine effort to root out graft and reallocate resources to the people. Al-Sharaa painted these moves as the dawn of a just economic order after decades of enrichment of Assad’s inner circle.

Reality

Six months on, the promised economic turnaround remains elusive, and many of al-Sharaa’s economic claims ring hollow. In the initial months of 2025, Syria’s economy continued to haemorrhage: Western sanctions remained in place for some time, impeding trade and investment. Basic living conditions for Syrians saw little immediate relief despite the rhetoric. By March 2025, an astounding 90% of Syrians were still living in poverty according to the UN – a stark indicator that ordinary people had yet to see tangible benefits from the new leadership. Inflation, which had exploded into triple digits during the war, did begin to slow thanks to an influx of goods and a stabilising currency – annual inflation reportedly fell from nearly 119% to around 6% year-on-year by January 2025. However, this statistical improvement did not erase the daily hardships of Syrians struggling with joblessness, high prices, and scant public services. Moreover, while al-Sharaa claimed to be dismantling the old kleptocracy, there are signs his approach to Assad-era financiers may be more pragmatic (or cynical) than advertised. His officials quietly held talks with notorious regime-linked magnates like Samer Foz and Mohammad Hamsho, who “pledged to cooperate” with the new authorities. Rather than face justice, some of these oligarchs appear to be negotiating their way into the new order suggesting that the much-vaunted “campaign to root out corruption” could end up recycling the same elites under a different banner. This raises doubts about al-Sharaa’s sincerity: having promised to break the economic grip of Assad’s cronies, he may instead be cutting deals with them behind closed doors. The net effect is that, despite bold promises, Syria’s economy remains fragile and heavily dependent on foreign patronage, and the public has yet to see the “great recovery” al-Sharaa touted. In short, the rhetoric of an economic rebirth has so far outpaced the reality on the ground.

Promises

Al-Sharaa also made sweeping assurances regarding security and military affairs, which have since proven contradictory. He pledged to bring all armed forces in Syria under central command, proclaiming that “the unity of arms and their monopoly by the state is not a luxury but a duty”. This was a direct promise to end the patchwork of militias and warlords that had proliferated during the civil war. In early speeches, Syria’s new leader urged unity among Syrians and an end to internecine fighting, positioning himself as a stabiliser after years of chaos. He held up the December 2024 rebel offensive that toppled Bashar al-Assad as a “lightning” victory that would reunify the country. Publicly, al-Sharaa insisted that reuniting Syria’s fragmented territory was a top priority and that all communities would be safe under his rule. In an unprecedented move, he even signaled openness to a truce with Israel: speaking to a US Jewish publication, al-Sharaa called for reviving the 1974 disengagement accord on the Golan Heights and declared “the era of endless tit-for-tat bombings must end”, urging Israel to halt its air raids on Syrian soil. He cautiously acknowledged that Syria and Israel “have common enemies and we can play a major role in regional security”, an astonishing statement from a man who once led an al-Qaeda franchise. This apparent promise of restraint – effectively assuring that Syria under his command would not pose a threat across its borders – was meant to signal a new chapter of stability and international cooperation.

Reality

In practice, these promises of order and control have given way to a familiar pattern of violence and lawlessness, revealing al-Sharaa’s assurances to be, at best, premature and, at worst, deceitful. Far from establishing a monopoly on force, the new government has struggled to rein in the array of fighters who brought it to power. Multiple armed factions have kept their weapons and operate with considerable autonomy. There is in fact no unified national army or police force fully in place a vacuum that proved disastrous in early 2025. In March, the regime’s failure to control its militants led to one of the worst outbreaks of sectarian bloodshed in years. After a group of Assad loyalists ambushed and killed new government troops in the coastal region, hardline fighters allied with al-Sharaa unleashed a wave of revenge attacks, slaughtering hundreds of Alawite civilians in villages across Latakia and Tartus. These were not rogue outsiders, but Islamists fighting ostensibly under al-Sharaa’s banner – yet they acted with impunity, executing entire families simply for being of the ousted President’s sect. The carnage starkly contradicted al-Sharaa’s promise to protect all Syrians. Indeed, despite his repeated pledges to safeguard minorities, this government-sanctioned retaliation showed that minorities (especially Alawites) are not safe; one human rights monitor noted grimly that al-Sharaa’s vow to protect every community “proved to be difficult” to uphold in reality.

Furthermore, Syria remains far from reunified. Large swathes of the northeast are still controlled by Kurdish-led forces (the SDF), beyond the reach of al-Sharaa’s administration a reality that undercuts his claim of restoring the state’s territorial sovereignty. In the south, Israel has explicitly walled off parts of Syria from the new regime’s troops: wary of al-Sharaa’s jihadist pedigree, Israel’s government warned him to keep his forces north of Damascus and even carried out an airstrike near the presidential palace on 2 May 2025 as a blunt message. This was just weeks after al-Sharaa implored Israel to cease its raids. Far from ending the “tit-for-tat bombings”, Israeli strikes have continued unabated – underlining the hollowness of al-Sharaa’s reassurances that a new era of calm was at hand. In sum, the reality on the military front is a landscape of persistent fragmentation and conflict. Al-Sharaa’s vow of a disciplined, unified armed force was belied by the persistence of factional fighters beyond central control. His promises of stability have been gravely undermined by continued violence – much of it at the hands of his own nominal allies. The de facto leader al-Jolani (even as President al-Sharaa) has not delivered the peace and security he confidently advertised; instead, Syrians have endured new rounds of bloodletting and insecurity under his watch.

Promises

Al-Sharaa rose to power promising a sharp break with the repressive policies of his predecessor. He proclaimed that his government would uphold civil rights, pluralism and “peaceful coexistence between all components of Syrian society”. In his inaugural addresses, he spoke of “building an inclusive society” in Syria’s complex sectarian and ethnic mosaic. This included explicit assurances to religious and ethnic minorities: the interim president vowed to protect minorities and prevent any retribution against communities that had been associated with the former regime. Tolerance, justice, and unity were the buzzwords of his early speeches. The closing statement of February’s National Dialogue conference orchestrated by Sharaa’s team even called for enshrining “justice, freedom and equality for all” in a new constitution. Notably, it emphasized freedom of expression as a value Syrians had “paid for with their blood”, signalling that dissent and free media would be respected under the new order. Al-Sharaa also announced the formation of a transitional justice committee to address past crimes, aiming to turn the page on Assad’s legacy of human rights abuses. In short, the public narrative from the new leadership was one of reconciliation and rights: no more collective punishments, a commitment to accountability for wrongdoers, and inclusion of women and minorities in rebuilding Syria’s social fabric.

Reality

These high-minded promises have been gravely undermined by the new regime’s actions and policies, which reveal patterns of exclusion, revenge, and repression reminiscent of the past. The massacre of Alawite civilians on the coast in March 2025 stands as the most gruesome betrayal of the pledge to protect all Syrians. Despite al-Sharaa’s personal assurances, hundreds of men, women, and children from the Alawite minority were hunted down and killed in “executions and massacres” carried out as collective punishment. This campaign of sectarian violence has instilled terror in minority communities precisely the opposite of the “peaceful coexistence” that was promised. The new authorities’ response was also telling: al-Sharaa blamed pro-Assad holdouts for triggering the bloodshed, but even he had to acknowledge that “revenge killings had followed”. He pledged to hold perpetrators accountable and set up a commission to investigate the coastal killings, yet many Syrians doubt that the Islamist fighters responsible will truly face justice. Indeed, fears have only amplified among Alawites and other minorities that Sharaa’s Islamist-dominated government might talk of tolerance while tacitly allowing vengeance. Reuters noted that the carnage “amplified fears about the jihadist roots of Syria’s new ruling group despite Sharaa’s promises of tolerance and accountability”. In essence, minority rights exist largely on paper, as the reality for communities like the Alawites is one of persecution and anxiety, with entire villages depopulated and survivors fearing what an Islamist victory means for their future.

Social freedoms under al-Sharaa have likewise come into question. While the regime’s official line endorses equality, elements of its ultra-conservative ideology are already seeping into policy. In late 2024, shortly after the takeover, an HTS spokesman declared that women’s “biological and psychological nature” made them unfit for certain jobs – explicitly saying women could not assume roles like Defense Minister. Soon after, the newly appointed head of the Women’s Affairs Office, Aisha al-Debs, announced plans to impose a model for Syrian women “based on Islamic Sharia”, pointedly rejecting Western concepts of women’s rights as “imported” and harmful. “I will not open the door to those who differ with me in thought,” she said, accusing feminist NGOs of wrecking Syrian family values. These statements effectively telling Syrian women to know their place provoked public outrage and mocking criticism on Syrian social media. Women activists lambasted al-Debs for relegating women’s rights to the back seat during the transition, questioning how sincere the new rulers’ commitment to equality really is. The backlash forced al-Debs to defend her hardline stance, which only reinforced the impression that the “inclusive society” al-Sharaa touts may in fact be a theocratic patriarchy in the making. So far, the new government has not demonstrated that it will protect freedom of expression either. Critical voices remain cautious: domestic media has been largely silent or state-controlled, and key events – such as the National Dialogue itself – were not broadcast live on any independent outlet. Syrians have resorted to Facebook, Telegram and WhatsApp to share information, while local news channels simply toe the official line. This climate suggests that despite rhetoric about free expression, dissent is being contained and narratives tightly managed by those in power.

In summary, many Syrians feel deceived: the promised new era of civil rights has manifestly not arrived. Instead of justice and reconciliation, they have witnessed victor’s justice and score-settling. Instead of empowerment of women and minorities, they see old prejudices repackaged in Islamist garb. Al-Sharaa’s words about tolerance, equality and freedom have not been matched by his government’s deeds. If anything, the early signs point to a continuation of Syria’s long history of human rights being sacrificed on the altar of political expediency and extremist ideology – a reality starkly at odds with the hopeful image the new president projected.

Promises

For Syrians exhausted by war profiteering and graft, al-Sharaa held out the promise of cleaner governance. His administration loudly proclaimed an anti-corruption drive aimed at dismantling the vast patronage networks of the Assad family. In January and February 2025, the interim government vowed to target Assad’s tycoons and kleptocrats who had long monopolised Syria’s economy. A special committee, staffed by al-Sharaa’s appointees, began combing through the accounts of regime-linked billionaires in what was described as a mission to “root out corruption and illegal activity”. Early decrees froze the assets of dozens of figures who had grown fabulously wealthy under Assad, sending a signal that no one not even the most well-connected businessmen was above the law. Al-Sharaa’s ministers insisted that Syria would no longer tolerate the culture of bribery, embezzlement and nepotism that had flourished in Damascus for decades. They pledged transparency in government dealings and spoke of directing Syria’s scarce resources toward public needs rather than private bank accounts. In short, the new rulers promised to clean house, portraying themselves as pious revolutionaries wiping away the corruption of a fallen dictatorship.

Reality

The reality of the past six months reveals a more complicated and far less virtuous picture. While the new government has indeed moved against some symbols of Assad-era corruption, these moves often appear either cosmetic or selectively enforced. For instance, the much-publicised inquiry into Assad’s business cronies has led to quiet negotiations with the very individuals deemed responsible for looting the nation. Tycoons like Foz and Hamsho, once pillars of the old elite, were not jailed or expropriated but instead courted by the new authorities. They flew back to Damascus for private meetings and reportedly “pledged to cooperate with the new leadership”, offering support (and presumably financial tribute) to al-Sharaa’s administration. Such arrangements smack of backroom deals rather than transparent justice – raising suspicions that these oligarchs may simply be buying their way into favour with the new regime. Indeed, economists and opposition voices have warned that without clear rules, the anti-corruption campaign could devolve into a power re-shuffle: Assad’s old cronies might be allowed to keep their empires intact as long as they profess loyalty to the Islamist-led order. This undermines the integrity of al-Sharaa’s anti-graft promises. Equally concerning, there is scant evidence that corruption within the new ruling coalition is being addressed. Hay’at Tahrir al-Sham (HTS) – the faction al-Jolani/al-Sharaa leads – has itself historically profited from illicit economies (such as smuggling and “taxing” locals in areas it controlled). Critics note that HTS commanders and their associates have now simply inserted themselves into state institutions, potentially continuing rent-seeking behaviours under official titles. No independent anti-corruption body exists; all probes are under the president’s direct control, casting doubt on their impartiality.

Transparency, too, is lacking. Key financial decisions and appointments have been made opaquely, often announced only after the fact. For example, lucrative reconstruction contracts are being negotiated largely with foreign states (Turkey, Qatar, Saudi Arabia) behind closed doors, with the Syrian public left in the dark about the terms. This mirrors the non-transparent practices of the past, despite promises to do better. The pattern suggests a degree of deceit: al-Sharaa’s government proclaims a new dawn of accountability, but in practice it is consolidating economic power among a new elite (largely HTS-aligned Sunni businessmen and war commanders) and co-opting select members of the old elite. Ordinary Syrians struggling to afford food and fuel have yet to see any “recovery dividend” from the supposed crackdown on corruption. Instead, they witness familiar signs – mansions in Damascus buzzing again with businessmen making deals with those in power – and worry that the corruption is simply changing form or beneficiaries. Until the process is truly transparent and broad-based, al-Sharaa’s anti-corruption stance risks looking like a political theatre designed to legitimize the new rulers while they entrench their own networks. In sum, the lofty anti-corruption pledges have so far yielded few concrete changes in governance culture, apart from settling scores with a few of Assad’s favourites. The fundamental promise of honest government remains unfulfilled, if not outright betrayed, by those now steering Syria’s economy.

Promises

Above all, Ahmed al-Sharaa presented himself as a transitional leader who would guide Syria from dictatorship to democracy. In public, he repeatedly promised a democratic political transition and the establishment of legitimate, representative governance after the Assad era. The National Dialogue Conference held on 25 February 2025 was touted as a “historic milestone” on this path. Al-Sharaa pledged that this forum – which gathered hundreds of delegates in Damascus – would chart a future of rule of law, inclusive governance, and national reconciliation. He opened the conference by urging unity and announcing a transitional justice committee to address past crimes, signalling that even former regime elements would be dealt with through due process rather than vengeance. The outcome of the conference, as declared by his officials, included an agreement to draft a new constitution guaranteeing “justice, freedom and equality for all” and affirming that no group would be excluded from the new Syria. Notably, the conference’s closing statement emphasized that public offices should not be allocated by sectarian or ethnic quota, implying a meritocratic and non-sectarian state. Al-Sharaa also spoke of upcoming elections – telling Reuters that while elections would indeed be held, Syria would “need up to five years to organise them properly” given the devastation of war. This timeline was presented as a reasonable interim to build institutions before full democracy. Meanwhile, under international pressure, the interim president promised to form an inclusive transitional government that would involve Syria’s diverse communities (Sunnis, Alawites, Druze, Kurds, Christians, etc.) in running the country until those elections. The overall message was one of a new beginning: a government by and for all Syrians, accountable and pluralistic, replacing Assad’s one-man rule with genuine power-sharing and respect for laws.

Reality

The political reality unfolding in Damascus has tragically diverged from these optimistic commitments. Far from dismantling authoritarian structures, al-Sharaa has in many ways replicated them – raising serious doubts about his sincerity and exposing patterns of deceit in his governance. The most glaring contradiction is the interim constitutional declaration issued in March 2025. Instead of empowering a broad-based government, this charter “concentrates power in the executive”, granting President al-Sharaa sweeping authority over all branches of state. He can appoint and dismiss ministers, judges, and legislators virtually single-handedly, with no meaningful checks or balances. Human Rights Watch and other observers sounded the alarm that this framework “risks consolidating executive control at the expense of fundamental freedoms”, warning that Syria may be sliding back into an autocratic model even as it claims to transition away from one. Indeed, Article 52 of the declaration allows al-Sharaa to remain interim president for five years (the very duration he suggested), during which no elections will occur and he wields extraordinary powers. This carte blanche undermines the promise of a swift move to democracy. It appears that al-Sharaa has effectively entrenched himself as an unaccountable ruler in the name of a “transitional phase,” a tactic all too reminiscent of Assad’s playbook. Many Syrians who had hoped for a genuine break with one-man rule now fear they have simply traded one autocrat for another – albeit one wearing a different ideological cloak.

The conduct of the National Dialogue itself also betrayed its advertised intent. While it was symbolically significant to convene a large gathering in the former presidential palace, critics note that the process was tightly stage-managed and lacked true inclusivity. Key opposition factions (such as representatives of the Autonomous Administration in Kurdish regions, or many secular activists) were absent or marginalised. In fact, sessions meant to discuss the future of Kurdish-majority areas had to be held in Damascus without the main Kurdish leadership, since those areas remain outside al-Sharaa’s control highlighting ongoing divisions. The preparatory committee for the dialogue was appointed by al-Sharaa himself, and the entire conference was rushed to conclusion in a single day, producing a glossy closing statement but leaving “critical questions unanswered”. Diplomats observed that while the event was hailed by its organisers as unprecedented, it may have been “window dressing”, aimed more at appeasing foreign governments and securing the lifting of sanctions than truly empowering Syrian society. In the aftermath, al-Sharaa did form a new 23-member cabinet on 29 March – and, to his credit, he included token figures from various communities (e.g. a Christian woman, Hind Kabawat, and an Alawite, Yarub Badr, in minor ministerial posts). However, this gesture came only after intense external pressure and the shock of the Alawite massacres, which had underscored the regime’s sectarian image. The real levers of power remain with al-Sharaa’s longtime Islamist comrades: for instance, he retained HTS stalwarts as Defence and Foreign Affairs ministers, and significantly opted not to appoint any prime minister, instead keeping those duties for himself. This power consolidation speaks louder than the inclusive rhetoric. It indicates that al-Sharaa’s primary aim has been to entrench his dominance over Syria’s political system rather than to democratise it.

Accountability and transparency in governance have likewise fallen short. The much-heralded transitional justice measures have been tentative at best. One illustrative episode was the opening of regime prisons in the weeks following Assad’s fall – presented by the new authorities as a humanitarian gesture, freeing long-held political detainees. Families rejoiced as prisoners were released, yet the process was chaotic and largely unmonitored. Departing regime officers managed to destroy documents and evidence in these detention facilities, and the new authorities did little to preserve records that could shed light on the fate of the disappeared. Women-led groups pleading for information about missing relatives were met with silence from the government. The prison releases, critics say, felt more like a propaganda exercise a “theatrical display” of benevolence – rather than a serious effort at truth and reconciliation. By failing to secure archives and crime scenes, the new regime may have knowingly or unknowingly enabled war criminals to cover their tracks, all while claiming to deliver justice. This is emblematic of a wider deceit: promising rule of law and accountability, but taking steps that undermine them.