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Less than a year ago, when the first tremulous shoots of the Arab Spring were pushing through North African clay, practically every political analyst and commentator agreed that whatever was growing in Tunisia and Egypt would not—could not—take root in Syria. Political society was too closed, they said, and President Bashar Al-Assad’s regime would be sheltered from the fervour of regional popular protests by a robust authoritarian system.
[inset_left]The world has been lulled in to the comfortable assumption that the imminent removal of Assad will precipitate a radical about-turn in the fortunes of Syria.[/inset_left]Nevertheless, today the widely held view is that Assad will not remain in power for very much longer, at least not without extensive concessions to on-going protests against his government. Indeed, the prevalent attitude in the western media suggests it is only a matter of time until Assad steps down or is forced out of office. It is not difficult to see how such a view has formed; the daily drip-feed of news from within Syria tells a story of violent repression towards a growing opposition movement. Most recently a dossier of videos released by the Syrian Revolution General Commission (SRGC) shows excessive brutality meted out to anti-government dissidents at the hands of Syrian security forces. As with similar reports from the Syrian opposition, the footage cannot be verified, but the Office of the UN High Commissioner for Human Rights (OHCHR) estimates that the death toll in Syria has exceeded 3,500 in the months since government forces began to violently put down protests across the country.
In the past week alone there have been further calls from Arab leaders—such as the Jordanian King Abdullah II–and the (historically impotent) Arab League for Bashar to reform or step down, as well as all-too familiar outrage from western governments and human rights organisations at the burgeoning humanitarian tragedy in Syria. Muted talk is in the air of no fly zones and even foreign military intervention, which is reminiscent to the build-up to the eventual NATO campaign in Libya. That campaign, which had at its core the thinly veiled motive of removing Muammar Qadhafi from power, has been painted as a success and it seems that there is an appetite for regime change abroad.
And so the world has been lulled in to the comfortable assumption that the imminent removal of Assad will precipitate a radical about-turn in the fortunes of Syria, bringing to a halt a cycle of protests and repression that threaten to turn the country into a bloodbath. This is highly unlikely.
Despite appearances, and an ostensible similarity with Qadhafi’s Libya, political power in Syria is not manifest solely in the individual of Bashar Al-Assad, nor even the office of president. Rather, it is located amongst privileged networks of elites, which run for the most part—but not exclusively—upon sectarian lines. It is common knowledge that an Alawi minority—with the Assad family at its center—rule Syria by populating the upper echelons of all state institutions and security apparatus. Abetted by a wealthy trading class representing diverse sectarian allegiances, the Syrian system exhibits classic traits of neopatrimonialism whereby a fundamentally unequal system of patronage—based upon family ties and reciprocal assurances—maintains an accepted hierarchy. In this way individuals within a structure, like the notoriously bloated bureaucracy of the Ba’ath party, can wield tremendous influence via trusted networks—and authority becomes an informal measure of ‘who you know’. It was Hafez Al-Assad, Bashar’s father, who was instrumental in the creation of this political world, co-opting families and securing loyalty often by force of personality.
It is significant, and troublesome for foreign onlookers, that despite the unquestionable groundswell of anti-government feeling in Syria—and months of protest—a critical mass has not yet been reached. The two biggest cities of Damascus and Aleppo have in fact played host to massive displays of support for Assad and his regime. The many thousands of people who have regularly lined the streets of the capital at pro-government rallies were not there due to coercion alone, but have a vested interest in maintaining a status quo in which stability—however unequal—is more or less assured. This stability is granted particularly emotive bearing when one considers the many sectarian tensions which have been kept more or less in check by an unchallenged Alawi supremacy.
Such a system can thrive only in a conservative climate of acceptance, and the knowledge that to get by one can rely upon the favors one grants to be reciprocated. It cannot thrive in an explicitly moral arena in which repressive force—another requirement for authority— is deemed excessive. Notably, the people of Dera’a, where the violent government crackdown began, have taken up a call against not just against Assad and his repressive tactics, but also against the merchants of the important trading center Aleppo, whom they perceive as complicit in the regime’s control. An attempted boycott of Aleppan goods has gained some traction amongst the Syrian opposition, and demonstrates that the problems they are seeking to solve are not merely embodied in the president, but are structural.
Suggestions have been made that certain member states of the Arab League have offered Assad and his family safe haven and the opportunity to exit swiftly, but were Assad to step down tomorrow, next week or next year, the internal political structures of Syria would not change—at least not without wholesale reform. And reform is a powerful word in the Syrian context. In many ways Bashar’s presidency has been a victim of his frequent use of the word ‘reform’ and the countless times others have described him as a reformer. This year’s governmental tactics—of half-hearted commitments to change followed by the heightened use of force—have provided ample evidence that despite inheriting his father’s presidency amid a so-called Damascus Spring, the superficial reforms that have been implemented—an incremental opening of the Syrian economy for example—have steered clear of interfering with the networks of privilege on which state power is based. Indeed, to do so would have been to de-legitimize his own government, as such an arrangement cannot be sustained in an environment of progressive reform and meritocracy.
Take the example of Rami Makhlouf, Bashar’s maternal cousin, who reportedly controls 60 percent of the nation’s economy by a combination of clientelism and intimidation. Were the required reforms implemented in his sphere of influence, the resilience of the regime and all who rely upon it would have been massively compromised by bringing business practises into line with conventional ideals. This raises the question of who stands to gain by the perpetuation of the status quo. It is not simply those at the top, like Makhlouf, but innumerable interests—people and their families—who are intractably tied to the current scheme via countless avenues of trust, with Assad as its figurehead.
The sectarian tensions that exist within Syria could be exacerbated by a rudderless political scenario. Already the Syrian opposition, in the form of the Free Syrian Army (FSA), have taken up arms against government security forces—witness the recent attack upon a government compound outside Damascus. The departure of Assad, while appeasing many, would not necessarily herald the overhaul of society required to make up for the dubious social adhesive his presidency brings. Indeed, historic hostilities and simmering animosities between religious and social groups may come to the fore in a theatre where violence is already on stage.
