Assad’s legacy of dispossession still felt in post-war Syria

Tools of control

Under Bashar al-Assad, violations of HLP rights were not the chaotic byproducts of war—they were deliberate tools of control, punishment, and political reward. The regime enacted a slew of laws and regulatory frameworks that gave legal cover for mass confiscations, forced evictions, and demographic reengineering. Cloaked in the language of "redevelopment," "public interest," and "security," entire neighbourhoods were emptied, ownership records altered or erased.

This architecture of expropriation was designed to achieve several interconnected aims. It sought to crush dissent by stripping families and communities deemed disloyal of their property rights, denying them legal recourse, and rendering them vulnerable to eviction or forced displacement. At the same time, it served as a means of rewarding loyalty—redistributing confiscated land and property to regime insiders, state-aligned investors, and supporters of the ruling network, thereby entrenching new forms of patronage.

Crucially, it also operated as an instrument of demographic engineering. By selectively dispossessing residents, manipulating ownership records, and redeveloping strategically located districts, the regime systematically reshaped the social fabric of contested areas—displacing perceived opponents and transforming politically sensitive zones into securitised, commercialised enclaves.

In practice, this meant that many Syrians returned home from displacement to discover their property declared "public interest", their ownership records missing or forged, and their homes occupied or demolished.

Festering grievances

The legacy of the Assad regime's systematic expropriation is now surfacing in a wave of localised disputes over long-suppressed HLP grievances—frequently igniting open conflict. In Damascus' al-Qadam district, tensions flared earlier this month when residents clashed over competing claims to war-damaged homes. Some families accused others of illegally occupying properties abandoned during the war. Security forces were deployed to contain the unrest, but the underlying disputes remain unresolved.

In the informal Alawite-majority neighbourhood of al-Somoriyeh, a wave of violent evictions in September provoked further unrest. Security forces violently removed residents from homes they had built over decades on expropriated land, following claims from members of another community asserting pre-war ownership. The operation triggered public anger—not only over the evictions themselves, but over the perception that the state was enforcing property claims selectively, with force rather than due process.

In Homs, protests erupted in August over the redevelopment of the Boulevard al-Nasser. The land slated for redevelopment overlaps with Qarabis—a neighbourhood that had already suffered widespread displacement under the regime's prewar "Homs Dream" initiative. For residents still carrying the trauma of past dispossession, Boulevard al-Nasser looked less like progress and more like déjà vu.

These are only the most visible flashpoints—briefly captured in headlines. Beneath them lies a much broader, more volatile terrain of unresolved property disputes, spanning towns and cities and posing a persistent threat to Syria's fragile recovery and social cohesion.

Emergency directives

To contain rising tensions, Syria's transitional authorities have taken a series of measures to begin addressing the HLP crisis. In the immediate aftermath of the regime's collapse, emergency directives were issued to freeze property transfers and suspend real estate-related court proceedings. The Ministry of Justice and the Cadastral Directorate halted new registrations and litigation notices in an attempt to safeguard land records and prevent further fraudulent or coercive transactions. Conflict-era transfers, particularly those tied to mass seizures, were also flagged for review.

At the provincial level, several governors have established special administrative committees tasked with resolving clear cases of unlawful property seizure outside the formal court system. These bodies have provided a faster, more accessible route to restitution for claimants with valid documentation. However, their effectiveness varies widely between regions.

At the national level, caretaker Justice Minister Shadi al-Wisi launched a formal review of the legal decrees that had been used to legitimise widespread expropriations under the Assad regime. This effort gained momentum in May, when Interim President Ahmed al-Sharaa issued Presidential Decree No. 16, annulling all precautionary property seizure orders issued by the Ministry of Finance between 2012 and 2024. Official estimates suggest that these measures affected more than 91,000 Syrians. In parallel, high-profile redevelopment initiatives in Damascus—such as Marota City and Basilia City—have been suspended pending further review.

More recently, the government assigned Syria's Second Civil Courts of First Instance jurisdiction over all HLP-related disputes linked to the conflict. This move brings long-overdue procedural clarity, establishing a dedicated legal channel to handle claims that were previously lost in a bureaucratic maze. It also aims to reduce backlogs, speed up proceedings, and improve access to justice for those still waiting to reclaim their rights.

Despite these efforts, the response remains fragmented. Institutional coordination is weak, legal contradictions persist, and access to remedies remains especially difficult for displaced Syrians.

Unilateral tactics

In the absence of a coherent national framework, many Syrians have turned to both formal and informal strategies to reclaim their HLP rights. The most immediate of these is physical re-entry: returning to abandoned properties, changing locks, or asking relatives to occupy the space. While often effective in areas with minimal contestation, these unilateral tactics carry legal risks and can escalate tensions where ownership is disputed or undocumented.

Restitution committees established by local authorities offer a more structured path to redress. These bodies collect documentation, verify ownership claims, and issue binding rulings. In districts with functioning governance and intact property records, they have achieved modest success. However, their mandate remains narrowly focused on clear-cut cases of blatant seizures—leaving the vast majority of HLP disputes unaddressed.

Formal legal channels have existed, even before the recent assignment of specialised courts. But these pathways are often costly, time-consuming, and out of reach—especially for refugees and internally displaced persons who lack the necessary documentation. Cases involving forged, missing, or contested titles risk stalling for years. With the burden of proof resting heavily on the claimant, many are left to navigate an opaque, often overwhelming legal system.

Where neither courts nor official committees offer effective remedies, informal mediation has emerged as a pragmatic fallback. Local leaders, religious figures, and notable councils have stepped in to resolve disputes. However, their efforts are often undermined by limited legal expertise and the non-binding nature of their verdicts.

Central issue

The persistent conflicts fuelled by Syria's HLP crisis underscore a critical truth: this is not a peripheral issue, but one at the heart of the country's fragile transition.

It is encouraging that authorities have taken initial steps toward addressing these injustices. Yet without a coherent, coordinated, and transparent national strategy for restitution, these measures risk remaining fragmented and ultimately ineffective. If left unresolved, property disputes will continue to stoke resentment, deepen social fractures, and erode public trust in the institutions charged with delivering peace.

At stake is far more than the legal status of individual homes and plots of land. It is the very legitimacy of Syria's post-conflict order. Without credible, inclusive restitution, returns will be largely symbolic, reconstruction will remain exclusionary, and the foundations of peace will be dangerously unstable.

Until rights are restored and justice becomes more than a promise, the legacy of dispossession will cast a longer shadow over Syria's future than any blueprint for rebuilding.