What Daraa’s assassinations say about Syria’s transition

A history of assassinations

Assassinations have a long and bloody history in Daraa. Under the Assad regime, they were common. State security forces, ex-opposition fighters, tribal militias, and criminal networks all used the fog of war to settle scores and assert dominance. 

Following the regime's collapse, Daraa entered a fleeting period of relative calm. From late December through February 2025, the pace of killings noticeably dropped. There was cautious optimism that the worst might be over. Local councils were re-established, military checkpoints were dismantled, and people began to return to public life. For the first time in years, the province seemed to breathe again.

But the calm was short-lived. By March, targeted killings had resumed and were increasing in frequency. Old rivalries quickly resurfaced. With weapons still widely available and public trust in state institutions fragile at best, many turned once again to violence to resolve disputes and settle old debts.

Between March and May, the drumbeat of assassinations grew louder. Local monitors documented dozens of assassination attempts, many attributed to remnants of the Assad regime. It soon became apparent that Daraa's fledgling security institutions—under-resourced and lacking clear authority— were simply not equipped to stem the tide.

The situation deteriorated sharply in June. In just the first two weeks, violence surged dramatically. Local monitoring groups reported at least 13 separate assassination attempts between 1 and 15 June, leaving 15 people dead and several more wounded. The killings were not confined to one hotspot but spread across the eastern, western, and northern parts of the province—a stark indicator of widespread security breakdown. In the city of al-Sanamayn alone, five assassinations were recorded in just one week, underscoring how quickly the situation has unravelled.

Emerging patterns

The current wave of assassinations in Daraa has spared no demographic. Though seemingly indiscriminate, distinct patterns have begun to emerge. The victims fall into several overlapping categories, each offering insight into the motives behind their targeting.

Security personnel remain among the most frequent casualties. These include police officers, internal security agents, and individuals involved in efforts to restore public order. One of the most high-profile incidents occurred on 14 June, when internal security officer Ali al-Sabbah was ambushed and killed in northern Daraa. Just a day earlier, officer Ahmed al-Bardan died from injuries sustained during an attack on a police patrol in the west. These killings are both symbolic and tactical—intended to discourage collaboration with state institutions and intimidate those enforcing new security policies.

Individuals linked to the former regime, particularly those associated with the notorious network led by Mohamed al-Rifai (also known as Abu Ali al-Lahham), have also become targets. Several figures tied to this group have been assassinated in recent months, suggesting an active effort to dismantle lingering elements of the old order—or to exact revenge for their past abuses.

Former rebel commanders who reconciled with the regime and joined local security forces have become another primary target. Viewed with suspicion by all sides, these individuals are often seen as opportunists or traitors. Some have assumed visible roles within local governance or security forces, making them particularly vulnerable. Many haunted by decisions or rivalries from different phases of the war now face acts of personal retribution.

Civil society activists and journalists are also in the crosshairs. A striking example is Abdul Rahman al-Hariri, who was shot dead in his car alongside his companion. Al-Hariri had gained prominence for exposing drug trafficking and official corruption, and his murder was widely seen as a warning. Activists like him are among the few voices demanding accountability in Daraa, making them natural enemies of those profiting from chaos and impunity.

Returnees vulnerable

Civilians and returnees have not been spared. The killing of Talal al-Jamous, a man who had recently returned from Jordan, underscores the precarious position of former refugees. Often perceived as outsiders or assumed to have taken sides during the conflict, returnees are easy targets—vulnerable to both retribution and mistaken identity. Even those with no political ties, like a couple shot dead while tending their farmland, have fallen victim to local vendettas or arbitrary violence. The randomness of these killings has only deepened the climate of fear.

Taken together, the profile of the victims paints a stark picture: Daraa is still at war with itself. No one is safe—not those rebuilding, not those returning, not even those who stayed silent. These assassinations are personal and political, spontaneous and strategic. They are a symptom of the deep fractures that continue to split Daraa—and by extension, Syria—apart.

A volatile mix of insecurity, institutional weakness, and apparent tolerance for vigilante justice is creating fertile ground for violence to thrive. With security forces stretched thin and a judicial system that barely functions, law enforcement has become more symbolic than real. The failure to reintegrate former fighters and the easy access to weapons among civilians have only deepened the province's vulnerability to continued violence.

Compounding this is the absence of any meaningful transitional justice process. The government's slow response to pursuing criminals, coupled with the release of individuals accused of serious crimes—often without trial or explanation—has severely eroded public trust. In the void left by these failures, many have turned to their own means of justice. For some, the wave of assassinations represents a grim form of vigilante justice—long-standing scores settled with bullets instead of due process.

Addressing root causes

What is unfolding in Daraa is far from an isolated episode. It reflects the deeper, systemic challenges confronting Syria's post-conflict transition. The violence exposes the fragility of transitional institutions, the unhealed scars of a brutal war, and the dangerous price of selective justice. Hoping these fractures will mend on their own is no longer tenable.

Unless transitional authorities act swiftly and decisively to confront the root causes of this unrest, Daraa risks solidifying into a permanent zone of lawlessness. In such conditions, neither meaningful reconciliation nor sustainable recovery can take hold.

The province has become a barometer of whether Syria's emerging institutions are capable of delivering justice, protection, and a genuine path forward. So far, the signs are bleak.

And if Daraa fails, it will not fail in isolation. The shockwaves will reverberate across Syria, threatening to unravel the fragile progress made since the fall of the regime—and with it, the hope for a peaceful future.