The Ashes of Victory:

 

Like others reacting to the state of Syria following the fall of the Assad regime, Nour al-Sayed’s response is heavy with disappointment and dismay, expressed in the title of her essay for Al Modon, “If We Knew the Depth of Our Hatred… We Wouldn’t Have Needed a Revolution.”* Sayed, adding a surprising levity, acknowledges the title comes across like something a child might say after not having their way, but just as quickly states that the severity of Syria’s predicament is not a matter that can be treated as “a child’s folly.” Her assessment of the country is sobering: the ‘victory’ against the Assad regime has “failed to mend  the wounds, but instead has reopened them and deepened the pain.”

 

Using a sarcastic tone, Sayed criticizes the behaviors and actions of Syrians throughout the past 8 months since the fall of the Assad regime. "What if we called things by their names? Stepped out into the open from behind the finger we've been hiding behind for the past eight months?" she asks, commenting on how people have adopted avoidant habits, pointing fingers at others to shield themselves from guilt or blame. Sayed also scoffs at the notion that the revolution "won," given the country's current state. While she concedes it is true that Syrians, in all their diversity, have prevailed against the ‘vile, fascist, and criminal’ Assad regime, she is most concerned about the burning question of what comes next for this country.

 

The light that had characterized the first moments following the fall of the regime — from the fireworks to candles illuminating the country in victory celebrations — has been snuffed out, its dying embers once again leaving Syria in a familiar darkness. Sayed describes the fragmentation of the country, where "every side pulls the image of the nation toward its own vision." The vision for the future of Syria remains murky, and Sayed heavily implies it isn't due to the government, but its people. She writes, "It is the people themselves — those who used to split at every funeral: some cursing a 'dead pig,' others honoring a 'martyr ascended' — who remain divided, even though the name on the casket is marked 'Syrian.’ It seems the fate of these people is to wander in ‘seven lean years’ for the rest of their lives. And the fate of mothers is loss."

 

The soul of the public, according to him, is scarred and "tainted by the coal of hatred." Time and time again, the country has become embroiled in conflicts between sects, the targets of which are constantly changing. Most recently, the sect to which Assad belonged, as well as Jabal al-Druze (or Jabal al-Arab), are notable examples. Within Syria’s hazy future, the only thing that remains clear to the author is that "there's no path to understanding."

 

Sayed recites the justifications fueling these attacks: "We attack one community after another with accusations of betrayal, convinced that treachery is their hallmark. We cite the words of grandmothers, former neighbors, and college roommates. No debate is tolerated over generalization…because ‘they’re all traitors and evil!’

 

Meanwhile, those who don't participate in this constant battle of finger-pointing are treated as heretics. They have called for reason and an end to inflammatory rhetoric, but are instead accused of “disrespecting the blood of the martyrs” and “being too lenient on justice.” Ironically, they are the people who demanded the prosecution of war criminals from the very beginning and upheld civil peace. Sayed aptly describes their futile efforts: “Like someone rowing with a broken oar, the few who strive to reach the shore of inclusive discourse make no headway.”

 

Sayed continues, “The Syrian people are experiencing a crisis of trust. After the cheers of victory and the lofty dreams of a civil state — and even of secularism, which some equated with heresy and blasphemy — the ship now sails through the muck of suspicion, especially given the current state of injustice marking the transition to justice.” The lack of accountability fostered by a climate of distrust and discord has led to crimes being swept under the rug or downplayed. She adds, "Terminology gets lost again in the whirlwind of logic. Figures disappear. Lists of the missing fade into a blur — caught somewhere between fact and illusion, between cause and rumor."

 

With the country drowning in this bleakness, heavy questions fester in the minds of many: “Why did we rise against tyranny, knowing full well the dictator would one day fall — but the people, in all their diversity, would remain? Why are we now incapable of accepting one another as a single people, rather than as “components” — guests we imprison within our laws, we the self-declared “hosts”?"

 

The answer, Sayed finds, is as vague as Syria’s future, yet simultaneously something that Syrians cannot afford to lose: hope. “Hope pushes us from behind,” she writes, “This land has existed forever and will remain so — diverse, rich in geography and sect, capable of weaving glory from every strand into a braid on the brow of the sun…It may sound like flowery prose meant to wrap up an article neatly. But anyone who has lived among Syrians knows they are like the cactus: content with little, yet blooming with a beauty that dazzles the eye in its defiant colors.”