Syria’s civic opening is being tested one lawsuit at a time

Syria has changed enough for citizens to challenge power in public, but not enough to guarantee protection when those they challenge reach for the law

Syria’s civic opening is being tested one lawsuit at a time

The fall of the Assad regime created a rare civic opening Syria had not seen in decades. Syrians have crossed an invisible line and begun asking powerful figures uncomfortable questions, by name and in public, without the fear that had long governed public life. A man could stand in front of a camera and ask the president, ministers and public figures to honour the financial pledges they had made in fundraising campaigns. Residents could protest a governor’s decision to revive an Assad-era reconstruction project.

That opening is now being tested. Not by tanks in the streets or the return of mass arrests, but through something quieter and more familiar: defamation cases that turn activism into a legal liability. For a country trying to prove that it has broken with decades of authoritarian rule, the question is no longer simply whether people can speak. It is whether the law will protect them when they do.

The first warning came earlier this month, when Damascus Governorate brought a defamation case against two community mobilisers. Yaser Abbas, spokesperson for the association campaigning to repeal Decree 66, and engineer Ibrahim Sheikh al-Shabab, a representative of affected residents in Mezzeh, were detained after protesting the governorate’s decision to resume reconstruction in Marota City.

Issued by Bashar al-Assad in 2012, Decree 66 paved the way for Marota City and Basilia City, projects widely seen by affected residents not as urban renewal, but as vehicles for dispossession. The charges reportedly included defamation against the Damascus Governorate and its governor, insulting public authorities, spreading false information online, and inciting protest. Abbas and Sheikh al-Shabab were released on bail a few days later after mediation by local notables with the governorate. But the case still sent a clear message: even peaceful mobilisation can be turned into a potential criminal matter.

Syria's emerging civic space is doing work that formal institutions are still too weak, politicised or opaque to perform.

A similar case was reported a few days later involving Hassan Akkad's "Give us the money that you owe" campaign. Through satire, social media and public pressure, Akkad began tracking unpaid pledges made during public fundraising campaigns. His demand was simple: those who pledged money should pay it.

The campaign resonated because it captured a wider public frustration. Syrians were watching large sums announced on stages and screens while daily hardship remained largely unchanged. Yet this effort, too, drew legal pushback. One defamation case was filed by public figure Mousa al-Omar, while others were reportedly filed by two companies linked to Mohammed Hamsho, a businessman affiliated with the Assad regime. Akkad has not been arrested, but the campaign has suspended its activities until the legal proceedings are resolved.

Exposing contradictions

The two cases are different, but they expose the same contradiction: Syria has changed enough for citizens to challenge power in public, but not enough to guarantee protection when those they challenge reach for the law. That gap is dangerous. Civic space cannot depend on the goodwill of officials, the restraint of security agencies or the ability of local notables to intervene after an arrest. If activists are safe only when a governor backs down, a public figure chooses not to escalate, or mediation succeeds, then their freedom is not a right. It is a permission slip.

The issue is not whether people should be free to lie, harass or defame others. They should not. The issue is whether outdated laws can still be used to shield powerful actors from legitimate scrutiny. Citizens should be able to ask questions about rights, public funds and corruption without facing detention, lawsuits or intimidation. This matters because Syria's emerging civic space is doing work that formal institutions are still too weak, politicised or opaque to perform. Civic activism is not a threat to the transition. It is one of the few forces currently pushing it towards accountability.

If the new authorities are serious about breaking with the past, they need to protect this space in law, not merely tolerate it in practice

Protect, not tolerate

If the new authorities are serious about breaking with the past, they need to protect this space in law, not merely tolerate it in practice. Defamation should not be used to criminalise criticism. Cybercrime laws should not become a backdoor for silencing accountability efforts. Peaceful protests, community organising, campaigns and accountability efforts should be clearly protected. Courts should distinguish between malicious defamation and legitimate public scrutiny, especially when complaints are brought by those who hold power or influence.

This is not a secondary reform. Syria cannot rebuild trust while punishing those who demand accountability. It cannot claim to be turning the page on authoritarianism while allowing old legal habits to return under new names. Syrians are using this opening to speak, organise, joke, shame, protest and demand answers. That is not disorder. It is citizenship beginning to reappear after decades of fear.

The question now is whether Syria's new rulers will protect that fragile civic life, or allow it to be narrowed one lawsuit at a time.

font change