On the first anniversary of the Assad regime’s ouster, Damascus felt very different. Crowds spilled into the streets late into the night. Music poured from cafés, passing cars, and makeshift stages. Strangers danced, giving Syria’s capital the air of a festival. For a moment, it felt as though Syrians were trying to release decades of suppressed joy all at once. Yet amid the noise, one chant cut through.
During an official military parade, a group of soldiers vowed to make the blood of their enemy run like rivers—a clear reference to Israel. The words carried a sharper edge than the surrounding celebration. A year ago, such language would have barely registered. Syria and Israel have had a long frozen hostility. Incendiary rhetoric was routine and largely inconsequential. Today, the context is different.
The transitional authorities have worked carefully to avoid any perceived threats towards Israel and are delicately negotiating a de-escalation of tensions, so hearing an official military unit revive the language of bloodshed dropped like a stone in still water, sending ripples immediately. Video footage of the chant circulated rapidly. It was soon cited as evidence that the transitional authorities cannot be trusted.
Whether or not the chant was intended as an act of defiance toward Syria’s interim President Ahmad al-Sharaa (whose government has engaged in talks with Israeli representatives), it exposed a fault line in the policy of restraint, one that will become increasingly difficult to sustain if talks stall and Israeli airstrikes and raids continue.
Not spontaneous
Presented as an expression of solidarity with Palestine, the chant opened with references to Gaza and culminated in a pledge to turn bodies into ammunition and make the enemy’s blood flow like rivers. The slogan itself is familiar, long embedded in public demonstrations and frequently heard in Palestinian military displays, including those of Hamas.
What gave the Damascus chant added weight was its setting. This was neither a fleeting slogan shouted by a single voice nor a peripheral moment on the margins of the celebrations. Rather, it was heard during the centrepiece of the official Liberation Day events: a military parade in the capital, deliberately choreographed to project state power. The audience further amplified its significance. Al-Sharaa and other senior leaders attended. Nothing could plausibly be dismissed as ‘casual’.