On Dec. 8, Syrians reached a historic milestone in their 13-year struggle for freedom and self-determination, ending over five decades of al-Assad family rule. In the dead of night, like a fugitive evading justice, former Syrian President Bashar al-Assad fled to Moscow, where he reportedly received political asylum. His escape marks the collapse of an authoritarian regime defined by terror, fear, and repression, ushering in a new chapter for a nation long ravaged by conflict and despair.
The fall of the Assad regime has sparked waves of hope across Syria and its diaspora. Millions of displaced Syrians can now begin contemplating a voluntary return to their homeland. Tens of thousands of detainees, once languishing in infamous torture facilities, are being freed. Thousands of families may finally uncover the fate of their disappeared loved ones. Across the nation, public squares are filled with jubilant Syrians dismantling statues of the al-Assad family in celebration of this long-awaited victory.
Amid these celebrations, and even as a multitude of urgent and basic security questions swirl, discussions about Syria’s transitional framework are already underway. The Syrian political opposition in exile has proposed an 18-month roadmap, which involves drafting a new constitution within six months and forming a transitional government. Activists have circulated lists of transitional government members on social media. Meanwhile, United Nations Special Envoy for Syria, Geir Pedersen, has emphasized the need for inclusive national dialogue. And U.S. Secretary of State Antony Blinken has called for a “Syrian-led and Syrian-owned political transition.”
International concerns over the ideological affiliations of armed opposition groups, including Hay’at Tahrir al-Sham (HTS), a former affiliate of Al-Qaeda, underscore the fragility of this moment. Nonetheless, recent shifts in the rhetoric of such groups, including a commitment to societal inclusion and the renouncement of retaliation, provide a cautious glimmer of hope for achieving a civilian-led transition. This moment represents an important test for regional and international powers, raising questions about whether lessons from political transitions in conflict affected countries across the Middle East and North Africa will shape a more cautious and supportive approach, avoiding the pitfalls of top-down frameworks imposed quickly by external forces fearing the specter of a power vacuum.
This article argues that external actors must resist the temptation of a rushed and top-down constitutional process in Syria. Such an approach jeopardizes a rare and long-awaited opportunity for political stability and societal cohesion. Instead, policymakers should pursue a locally-driven and incremental approach to constitutionalism. A locally-driven incremental constitutionalism is needed to help foster dialogue in Syria, a divided society with a history of constitutional formalism, political exclusion, and public distrust of authority. Such an approach can facilitate trust-building and the organic birth of a constitutional culture, where Syrians entrust government institutions and the rule of law. By prioritizing inclusivity and local ownership, Syria can lay the groundwork for a more cohesive, just, and prosperous future.
Risks of a Quick-Fix, Top-Down Approach
Every nation has its own unique history that influences its path in any political transition. Cut-and-paste lessons learned should therefore be treated with skepticism. Still, examples from complex transitional efforts in other conflict-affected countries – including in Afghanistan, Iraq, Lebanon, Yemen, and Sudan – raise several risks to bear in mind as Syria formulates new constitutional arrangements:
Creating an Inflexible Constitutional Framework
A top-down approach typically produces rigid constitutional frameworks that fail to adequately consider the historical, socio-political, and evolving realities of post-conflict societies. Such an approach often occurs under external pressure and prioritizes expediency over deliberation, effectively depriving the diverse communities of the opportunity to meaningfully deliberate the root causes of conflict and their future aspirations. For example, Iraq’s 2005 constitution, crafted under the U.S.-led coalition, emphasized federalism without adequately addressing the intricacies of tribal, ethnic, and sectarian dynamics, leaving unresolved tensions over resource distribution and regional autonomy. Afghanistan’s 2004 constitution entrenched a highly centralized presidential system that ignored the country’s legacy of local governance, limiting the state’s ability to adapt to regional power dynamics. Sudan’s 2019 Constitutional Declaration, rushed through in the aftermath of a popular revolution to overthrow 30 years of dictatorship under former President Omar al-Bashir, entrenched, rather than resolved, the structural power imbalance between “the street” and the military. Post-conflict societies are characterized by fluidity and instability. Their needs evolve rapidly as peace is restored and political structures are reimagined. A rushed top-down process risks trapping this dynamic environment in a rigid constitutional framework that could exacerbate, rather than resolve, existing challenges.
Enabling Capture by Elite and Foreign Actors
A top-down constitutional drafting process also tends to favor elites and external actors at the expense of broader societal inclusion. This dynamic undermines both the legitimacy of the constitution and its ability to tackle the root causes of conflict. Lebanon serves as an example of elites prioritizing self-preservation over locally-driven reconciliation. Lebanese political elites who negotiated the Taif Agreement institutionalized sectarian power-sharing, entrenching a system that perpetuated clientelism and hindered effective governance. Relatedly, external actors dominating transitional political processes often push for constitutional provisions that serve their geopolitical or ideological interests rather than the needs of the local population. For example, the U.S.-led process in Iraq emphasized Western democratic ideals without fully considering the concerns of diverse social forces, resulting in a lack of public trust in the constitutional framework. Furthermore, constitutions perceived as elite-driven or foreign-imposed often struggle to garner societal acceptance. In Afghanistan, the heavy involvement of international actors in the 2004 process alienated many Afghans and stirred widespread skepticism of the central government and its constitutional framework. In Sudan, constitutional documents have routinely been drawn from “off-the-shelf” power-sharing arrangements that (temporarily) pause conflict, but ultimately incentivize excluded groups to take up arms to secure their own piece of the political pie in the future.
Perpetuating Sectarian and Societal Division
A top-down approach risks reinforcing societal cleavages, particularly in deeply divided societies. Lebanon’s confessional system, established in the Taif Agreement, formalized sectarian quotas in government positions, thereby reinforcing identity-based politics and undermining national cohesion. In Yemen, the 2015 draft constitution’s federal model was seen as favoring certain regions over others, exacerbating tensions between the north and south. A lack of inclusivity associated with a top-down approach can alienate key societal groups, undermining the constitution’s legitimacy.
Working from the Ground Up
As Syrians embark on the task of transitioning to self-governance, all foreign actors involved in the process must remain mindful of the factors that have shaped Syrians’ experiences with constitutionalism and government institutions:
Syria’s Legacy of Political Exclusion
Since independence, Syria’s political landscape has been characterized by exclusion and lack of representation. Politics in the nascent State was confined to competition between elites, rather than broad-based representation. The ruling urban elite, the heirs of the notable class during the Ottoman Empire, monopolized political power at the expense of the rural minority population. This political exclusion and corresponding economic disparity were the driving force for the rise of Al Ba’ath Party. The social class disparity manifested not only in political and economic conditions, but also in access to education and social services. According to John McHugo, an Arabist and international lawyer, as of 1960–three years before Al Ba’ath Party’s coup–“two thirds of the population over the age of ten […] was illiterate.” This disparity cast its most severe impact on women, with an illiteracy rate of 84.2 percent.
Initially presenting itself as a reformative and revolutionary force, Al Ba’ath Party, once in power, quickly became a replica, though more repressive version, to the same evil it once claimed to fight against. Over fifty years, Al-Assad’s family ruled Syria as a “private farm,” an expression Syrians commonly used to explain the totalitarian nature of Al-Assad family’s regime. Not only did the Al-Assad family exclude certain ethnicities, classes, and religious sects, they prohibited State senior officials, such as prime ministers, vice presidents, and parliament members, from performing anything beyond solely technocratic functions. The art of politics was confined to a small coterie of Al-Assad’s family and their patronage network. This prolonged exclusion from public life was one of many factors that drove Syrians to the streets in protest.
The uprising of 2011 afforded Syrians an opportunity to engage in public life. The violent response of Al-Assad’s regime quickly accelerated the militarization of the conflict. Meanwhile, Syrians on the ground began forming secretive networks to coordinate their anti-Assad efforts, such as organizing protests, providing humanitarian aid to besieged areas, and reporting human rights atrocities to media outlets. Simultaneously, the Syrian political opposition was being formed in exile with the disproportionate participation of the Syrian diaspora. The opposition bodies received significant international recognition but struggled to translate this recognition into effective influence within Syria. This disconnect between external political representation and social forces on the ground reinforced the very same exclusionary political dynamic that ignited the rebellion: the assertion that neither Assad nor the opposition actually represented the will of the people.
Syria’s History of Constitutional Formalism
The risks of constitutional formalism, where a constitution exists in name but lacks enforcement or legitimacy, are deeply ingrained in Syria’s history. The country’s constitutional framework has long been a tool for authoritarian control rather than a mechanism for accountability or good governance.
Since its independence in 1946, Syria has undergone more than 15 coup attempts which hindered the establishment of stable democratic institutions and culminated in Hafez al-Assad’s 1970 coup. From 1970 to 2000, Hafez Al-Assad led with little regard to the constitution. In fact, he operated under a parallel legal scheme, carefully designed through his emergency powers. Overall, Hafez Al-Assad entrenched both authoritarianism and formalism, which facilitated the rise of his son Bashar to power in 2000. “Within five minutes”–as the Syrian humor goes–the People’s Assembly amended the constitution, lowering the minimum presidential age to fit the 34-year old son of the recently deceased president. This event epitomizes the culture of constitutional formalism in Syria, a heavy legacy that is integral in Syrian popular culture, including the famous play Ghorba in which a ruler, asked about the constitution, is informed by a servant that “the donkey has eaten it.”
Syrians’ Distrust of Government Institutions and the Rule of Law
Syria’s heavy legacy of political exclusion and constitutional formalism have instilled in Syrians a deep fear and distrust of authority. For many years, Syrians who experienced injustice or were victims of crimes hesitated to report to police stations or resort to courts, either because they viewed them as ineffective or because they refused to pay bribes. The uprising further deepened this distrust as the Syrian Army–once hailed by millions with chants of “Guardians of the Homeland, peace be upon you”–mercilessly turned its violence against them. For many Syrians, the government apparatus is perceived to be a colossal embodiment of Saydnaya prison–a dark and terrifying maze impossible to navigate. Until they are afforded an opportunity to unpack this legacy and deliberate their concerns and perceptions about Syria’s history and future, a just and representative government will remain a myth to many mourning Syrians.
Path Forward
The path ahead for Syrians is long and complex. There are immediate security concerns demanding attention, and plenty of short-term political jostling to play out. Still, it is not too early to call for time and space to be held for a civilian-led political process within which people can voice their concerns, confront their wounds, and contemplate their preferred and representative political system. External actors can make this journey harder by imposing their own interests and agendas on the Syrian people, or they can facilitate and support Syrian people to exercise their own agency as they seize this once-in-a-generation chance to determine the future of their nation. The list of failures resulting from externally imposed “solutions” on post-conflict societies is already long enough to give outside actors pause, and counsel humility in the weeks and months ahead. Key among the many lessons that these past 13 years of conflict has given the Syrian people, is that when the governance of their country fails, they alone will be left to live – and die – with the consequences.