Lebanon’s parliament elected a new president on January 9 after a two-year political deadlock and 13 failed attempts. Joseph Aoun met the threshold for victory in the second round of voting after his rival, a Hezbollah-backed candidate called Suleiman Frangieh, withdrew from the race.

In his inaugural speech to parliament, President Aoun outlined a series of pledges to deal with the overlapping crises that have brought Lebanon to the point of collapse. However, delivering on these promises will be immensely challenging.

Aoun’s presidential victory is remarkable. He did not publicly campaign for the job, and none of the political parties sponsored him as their favoured presidential candidate. So, how did Aoun emerge to win the presidency?

Rather than an established scion of the political class, Aoun is a career soldier, serving as the commander of Lebanon’s army since 2017. Lebanon’s army, the Lebanese Armed Forces (LAF), is a rare example of an institution that is widely seen as a unifying symbol in Lebanon.

Aoun effectively stopped the army from being dragged into the recent conflict between Israel and Hezbollah, despite the deaths of over 40 LAF soldiers, and he played a decisive role in overseeing a 60-day ceasefire deal brokered by the US and France in November.

The main backers of Aoun’s presidential bid were a loose network of regional and international players, including the US, Saudi Arabia and Qatar. These states all view Aoun as their best hope of maintaining the brittle ceasefire, while also overseeing the restoration of Lebanon’s national government.

They have used their leverage by making the delivery of economic aid to Lebanon contingent on the main political factions electing Aoun.

The election of Aoun provides further evidence of the weakening power of Hezbollah in Lebanon. Hezbollah has suffered several political and economic reversals over recent years.

In the 2022 general election, Hezbollah and its allies lost their parliamentary majority. And then, in 2024, Israel appears to have weakened Hezbollah’s military machine, including killing its leader Hassan Nasrallah and several senior figures.

The recent ousting of Bashar al-Assad’s regime in Syria has also deprived Hezbollah of a powerful ally, while the group’s main backer, Iran, is in no position to maintain its level of funding. Iran’s capacity to support Hezbollah has reduced significantly due to international sanctions spearheaded by the US to prevent the regime in Tehran from developing nuclear weapons.

“Joseph Aoun,” Digital based on a public domain photo, Dream / Dreamland v3 / Clip2Comic / IbisPaint, 2024

Lebanon’s former president, Michel Aoun (not related to Joseph Aoun) was a longtime ally of Hezbollah. The group had hoped it could install another ally into the presidential palace by supporting the candidacy of Frangieh. But Frangieh withdrew from the race and, alongside a number of other lawmakers, announced his backing for Aoun.

In his first speech as president, Aoun stated: “My mandate will emphasise the state’s right to monopolise arms.” Although Aoun did not name Hezbollah directly, his words were understood to mean that he would seek to disarm the group. Hezbollah parliamentarians sat silent while most MPs applauded Aoun’s statement.

Off to a good start

Aoun has charged his presidency with several lofty ambitions. But these ambitions will prove difficult to deliver. The power of the presidency has strict limitations owing to its largely symbolic figurehead status.

The position of president is primarily to service Lebanon’s power-sharing system. This system provides guarantees of representation in parliament to 18 sect communities. To ensure that no group can monopolise political power, the role of president is reserved for Maronite Christians, while the prime minister must be from the Sunni Muslim community and the speaker of the house is Shia.

President Aoun has pledged to reform the power-sharing government. Survey evidence indicates that Lebanon’s government has the lowest level of trust in the Middle East. The Lebanese power-sharing system is prone to dysfunctional political institutions, policy deadlock and periodic rounds of collapse. Power-sharing politicians are known for corruption and vote buying.

Aoun is off to a good start. A few days after his appointment, he convened parliament to elect a new prime minister, Nawaf Salam, the current head of the International Court of Justice. Salam’s confirmation is a surprise because, like Aoun, he is not seen as patron of any of the major political parties in the country.

The fact that the usual horse-trading between the main parties to agree on a new prime minster did not occur further underscores the weakening of Hezbollah, which was unable to get its preferred candidate, Najib Mikati, back into power. In response to Salam’s appointment, Hezbollah lawmakers accused their political opponents of trying to exclude them and fragmenting the country. Salam has a long history of calling for reform of the state and tackling endemic corruption.

Aoun and Salam now face many challenges in delivering on the hope that many Lebanese feel following their appointments. They will need to form a government as a matter of urgency to create political stability and approve a budget. Lebanon confronts a dire economic situation that the World Bank has identified as among the “most severe crisis episodes seen globally since the mid-19th century”.

A further urgent priority is supervising an extension to the current ceasefire deal with Israel, which comes to an end on January 25. The current agreement requires Israeli troops to withdraw to their side of the border.

With the backing of the army, large sections of the Lebanese population, and powerful international players, Aoun and Salam form a pairing that give realistic hope for a period of sustained stability and reconstruction. But finding a way to build consensus politics in Lebanon will not be easy, especially if the new president and prime minister set a course that brings them into confrontation with Hezbollah.

John Nagle, Professor in Sociology, Queen’s University Belfast and Drew Mikhael, Scholar at Centre for the Study of Ethnic Conflict, Queen’s University Belfast

This article is republished from The Conversation under a Creative Commons license. Read the original article.

Munich, Germany (Special to Informed Comment; Feature) –– Historically known as the Persian Gulf, the body of water stretching from Iraq on the northwest to Oman on the southeast has increasingly been called the “Arab Gulf” since the rise of Arab nationalism in the 1960s. In the 1980s, the Gulf was the scene of military attacks by Iran and Iraq against merchant vessels in what was known as the “Tanker War.” More recently, Iran’s Islamic Revolutionary Guards Corps (IRGC) has occasionally seized ships transiting the Gulf’s waters. In April 2024, for instance, the IRGC took hold of a container ship with alleged ties to Israel as a response to the Israeli attack against the Iranian consulate in Damascus.

The Gulf might have a contested terminology and a recent past of significant military tensions. And yet, focusing too much on these conflictual dynamics would obscure the broad contours of the Gulf’s history. This history, explains Allen James Fromherz in his book “The Center of the World: A Global History of the Persian Gulf from the Stone Age to the Present”, has been largely dominated by personal and commercial interactions across the Gulf’s shores and beyond. The Gulf has historically been more of a channel between lands than an unbridgeable rift, argues Fromherz, a historian and Director of the Middle East Studies Center at Georgia State University.

Many authors would be daunted by the task of synthetizing over four millennia of history in a geographical area that encompasses eight different modern states. But Fromherz rises to the challenge. The way he structures the book certainly helps. Fromherz does not present a comprehensive historical account—this would have been an impossibility in less than 300 pages. Instead, he chronologically presents the stories of six different port cities in the Gulf that, in turn, open the door to exploring different historical eras in the region.

“The Center of the World” starts in Dilmun, an ancient kingdom centered in today’s Bahrain, and moves to Basra or Hormuz before concluding with the modern metropolis of Dubai. The centrality of the Gulf for world history, notes Fromherz, is related to the region being a link between the Mediterranean and India via the Fertile Crescent. It was in the Gulf that trade first emerged and later, in the second half of the eighth century, Basra became “Islam’s economic and cultural powerhouse.”[1]

“Geography is destiny” is a sentence attributed to Ibn Khaldun, the Arab scholar born in the fourteenth century. It is perhaps no coincidence that Fromherz is also a biographer of the North African historian and philosopher. In “The Center of the World”, Fromherz greatly relies on geography to explain the Gulf’s history. The Seleucids, the Parthians, the Romans, the Sasanians, and the Ottomans, all failed to dominate the Gulf. This, explains Fromherz, is connected to the Gulf’s three natural barriers. On the Arabian side, vast deserts. On the Persian side, high mountains. And north of Basra, extensive marshes. When the Iranian Sasanian Empire tried to collect taxes from the people living in the Gulf, they would often disappear into the mountains or find temporary refuge in desert oases.

Meanwhile, before the advent of modern topography, the Gulf’s coasts offered small boats too many places to hide for powerful fleets to dominate the waters. The British Empire, the first to accurately chart the geography of the Gulf in the second half of the nineteenth century, was not interested in territorial domination there. To British eyes, the Gulf was a trade area and a vital link between Britain and territories where London wanted to exert direct control, such as India.

Allen James Fromherz, The Center of the World: A Global History of the Persian Gulf from the Stone Age to the Present (Berkeley: University of California Press, 2024). Click Here to Buy

Lacking fertile lands to grow agricultural surpluses and develop large urban centers, long before oil could be exploited economically, the people of the Gulf prospered on trade. That was the case of Siraf, in what is currently southern Iran. Even though it had to import freshwater on ships, Siraf grew in the tenth and eleventh centuries as it became an important transit point for Basra and Shiraz. Siraf lived and died by trade, as it collapsed when commercial routes changed in the twelfth century.

Fromherz credits the importance of trade with fostering a climate of tolerance and co-habitation among different religious and ethnic groups in the Gulf. While on the sea, people of diverse creeds and origins coincided as passengers on the same ship. On the dry land, communities that would have been separated in other contexts had to share quarters in small port cities such as medieval Siraf or Hormuz under Portuguese rule.

Tolerance also made economic sense for the Gulf’s rulers. An open-minded attitude allowed a port city to attract all kinds of traders (and the customs revenue that came with them) if they knew their traditions would be respected there. As Fromherz explains, “because a port city would quickly shrivel and die without trade and comparatively advantageous taxation, different levels of society had a vested interest in openness and toleration of diverse groups from throughout the Indian ocean.”[2]

King Sebastian of Portugal, who reigned during the second half of the sixteenth century, is believed to have died during a crusading mission against a Moroccan sultan. Leaving behind this crusading zeal, the same king intervened to stop the planned destruction of a mosque in Hormuz. Highly indebted, Portugal could not afford to antagonize the Hormuzi Muslim traders, who might have moved elsewhere leading to a loss of customs revenue. Hindu temples and synagogues were also spared, and the Catholic priests in Hormuz were relatively restrained in their conversion efforts.

Portugal would ultimately be humbled in 1650 when it lost Muscat to an alliance of Muslim Omanis and Hindu Banians. The conquest of Muscat shocked Europe because “a major imperial Western power had been bested not by another Western navy but by an emerging Gulf coalition.”[3] Similar to the naval battle of Tsushima in 1905, when the Japanese vanquished the Russian navy at the end of the Russo-Japanese War, Portugal’s defeat in Muscat questioned beliefs in Western superiority.

Tsushima was the parting shot in “The Revolt Against the West and the Remaking of Asia”, as Pankaj Mishra puts it in his book about the rise of the Asian continent. In contrast, three centuries passed between the Portuguese defeat in Muscat and the emergence of the Gulf as an independent center of power. If the nineteenth century in the Gulf was dominated by the pearling industry, the twentieth century would bring with it the much more lucrative oil industry, changing the region forever.

Oil was first exploited in commercial quantities in Bahrain, but the largest oil reserves in the Gulf are found in Saudi Arabia, Iran, and Iraq. Oil exploitation not only catapulted the region’s economy but dramatically altered the lives of its citizens. In 1960, life expectancy in the United States was 70 years. In Qatar and Saudi Arabia, the figures were 59 and 46 years, respectively. By 2022, both Qatar and Saudi Arabia had overtaken the United States, with Qatari citizens living 82 years on average, five more than US citizens. A similar dynamic had taken place in terms of infant mortality.

In a book that is highly original and full of meaningful anecdotes, the last chapter, which covers the recent history of the Gulf, feels comparatively dull. Even so, Fromherz concludes with some observations about the future of the Gulf worth taking into consideration. He notes that the Gulf’s rulers should avoid rising nationalism, war threats, and isolation from their subjects. Instead, he reminds the readers that “commerce, consensus, and cosmopolitanism… exist deep in the veins of Gulf history, often originating there long before they were practised in the West.”[4]

Although often incomplete, the end of the Qatar blockade in 2021, the truce in Yemen in 2022, and the normalization of relations between Saudi Arabia and Iran in early 2023 were positive steps. Since late 2023, though, the war on Gaza and its regional implications have thrown the Gulf into new uncertainty. The future of the US presence in the Gulf is also difficult to predict, especially when we are only days away from the inauguration of US President Donald Trump, who has been sending mixed signals on the matter.  If the US were to withdraw progressively from the area, Fromherz believes the Gulf would focus on south Asia, its natural partner. This would, in a way, strengthen the notion of history being circular.

[1] Allen James Fromherz, “The Center of the World: A Global History of the Persian Gulf from the Stone Age to the Present” (Berkeley: University of California Press, 2024), p. 77.

[2] Ibid., p. 25.

[3] Ibid., p. 161.

[4] Ibid., p. 258.

The fall of the Assad regime after more than 50 years and the rise of the militant group Hayat Tahrir al-Sham (HTS) has brought Syria to a critical turning point.

Decades of Ba’athist rule entrenched deep ideological and emotional divides within Syrian society. Aside from the massive job of rebuilding the war-torn country’s infrastructure, the militarised nationalism and sectarianism of Assad’s regime have left the country with lasting social and political scars. These must be addressed as a matter of urgency if his successors truly wish to build a unified national identity.

The 13-year civil war deepened sectarian fragmentation, particularly between the ruling Alawite and majority Sunni communities. HTS’s Sunni-centric background now presents it with the considerable challenge of navigating these divides. Further to that, the group’s historical ties to ideological extremism and its origins as a militant and militarised movement contribute to a significant trust deficit both domestically and internationally.

Meanwhile the old order has been shattered. This was already happening. By the time of Assad’s downfall, the regime’s army was severely compromised. Systemic corruption, sectarian favouritism and organisational inefficiencies had crippled its effectiveness as a military force.

Before the war began with the popular uprising of 2011, the Syrian army was a sprawling institution with hundreds of thousands of personnel across various branches. By and large, loyalty to the regime was prioritised over professional competence.

A web of competing interests, deeply tied to sectarian and tribal allegiances and entrenched nepotism further eroded the army’s integrity. It had also largely lost the respect of the bulk of the Syrian people and was seen by most as a tool of Assad, rather than a defender of the people.

This image was cemented in many people’s minds by the savagery directed against peaceful civilian protesters during the uprising.

More than a decade of conflict further eroded the army’s effectiveness. Reports highlight the loss of over 75% of its combat capabilities due to defections, desertions and the capture of weapons by opposition forces.

The job of the next generation of leaders will be to rebuild. HTS leader Ahmad al-Shara, has said he envisions that the Syrian army will transition from conscription-based recruitment to a professional, volunteer force equipped with advanced training and modern technology. But this strategy remains vague and inconsistent, particularly as the full disarmament of armed groups – a critical prerequisite for forming a unified national army – has yet to be agreed upon with al-Shara.

Challenges ahead

Adding to this complexity are the regional dynamics that pose significant challenges to the new leadership under HTS. Convincing armed groups, including factions within the Turkey-backed Syrian National Army (SNA), to formally disarm remains a major hurdle. This issue is further exacerbated by Turkey’s role in maintaining factionalism in northern Syria.

“Ahmad al-Shara,” by Juan Cole; Digitally enhanced, 2024.

Turkey’s policies in northern Syria have long been aligned with its national security and geopolitical interests. This is particularly the case when it comes to countering Kurdish autonomy movements in northeast Syria. While this may serve Ankara’s strategic goals, it risks undermining Syria’s sovereignty and its efforts to establish an independent future.

The new regime, whatever shape it takes, must ensure it addresses regional interests. But it must avoid compromising the broader objective of building a unified and inclusive Syrian state.

Balancing external support with the need to rebuild trust within the population will be critical. Achieving this balance will be a formidable challenge. But it’s essential for building a Syria that is both stable and sovereign.

Initial statements from Syria’s new leadership about military restructuring and its commitment to transitional justice signal an intent to break with the oppressive practices of the Assad regime. But these declarations have already been overshadowed by alarming incidents that raise questions about accountability and the broader implications of this transition.

In areas such as Latakia and Homs, Arabic-language videos have surfaced showing acts of brutal retribution. These have included torture of Alawites. There is also evidence of the summary execution of some remnants of the Assad regime. Thus far there appears to have been no sign of due process or indication that the perpetrators will be held to account.

Delicate transition

Interviews with former senior regime officers by some media channels, incuding al-Jazeera have revealed a mix of cautious optimism and uncertainty. Officers described the process of disarmament as relatively smooth. But many appeared uncertain about their future roles and whether they would be integrated into the restructured army or sidelined entirely. This sense of limbo has the potential to destabilise the transition.

An additional layer of complexity arises from HTS’s ongoing efforts to legitimise itself in the eyes of the international community. Since taking power, the group has actively sought to be delisted as a terrorist organisation. It presents itself as a pragmatic and stabilising force capable of filling the power vacuum in post-Assad Syria.

In its few weeks in charge, the new regime has welcomed a number of Arab and other foreign delegations. This shows a calculated effort by HTS to portray itself as a legitimate political organisation, ready to lead the next chapter of Syria’s future. While this engagement could help al-Shara and HTS improve the way it is seen on the international stage, it is fraught with challenges and contradictions.

On one hand, the participation of international delegations in dialogue with HTS could be seen as a necessary, if controversial, step toward stabilising Syria and preventing prolonged chaos. But there’s a risk that by doing this too rapidly it will be granting al-Shara and HTS unchecked authority before addressing key concerns about governance, inclusivity and the group’s ideological legacy.

The absence of concrete guarantees for a transition to power-sharing and institutional pluralism raises the spectre of a new form of authoritarianism, cloaked in the rhetoric of reform and stability.

Rahaf Aldoughli, Lecturer in Middle Eastern Politics, Lancaster University

This article is republished from The Conversation under a Creative Commons license. Read the original article.

(The Conversation) – What are war crimes and when did they start? – Artie, 12, Queens, New York

I imagine you’re asking about “war crimes” because you’ve heard that term mentioned lately in news about the conflicts underway in Gaza, Ukraine and Sudan. The idea may sound confusing, because war always includes killings and destruction. But special rules restrict how wars can be fought.

I am a professor who studies international law – the set of rules that defines what a war crime is.

Why do we need laws about war?

Historically, war had few limits. Individual societies occasionally attempted to control how wars were fought. But for much of human history, when nations attacked each other, it wasn’t just soldiers who died. Many civilians – ordinary people who weren’t fighting in the war – died, and whole cities were destroyed.

After wars ended, survivors from the losing country might even end up as slaves taken back to the victorious country.

There were no “laws of war” that restricted conquests by the Egyptians and Romans in ancient times between 600 and 30 B.C. No laws limited the Mongol invasions of Europe in the 13th century or the European colonial invasions of Latin American, African and Asian societies in the 18th through 20th centuries.

Even as recently as the 1940s, during World War II, U.S. and U.K. forces killed hundreds of thousands of people in their bombings of German and Japanese cities. Nazi Germany systematically murdered approximately 6 million Jews and others during the Holocaust.

When did war get laws?

There is no supreme world government that can create laws for all countries, so international law is formed by rules that countries agree to respect. These are called treaties.

In the 19th century, countries and many private groups worldwide began working to develop the laws of war.

Early treaties on war were meant primarily to protect soldiers from unnecessary pain and suffering. Countries agreed to stop using really dangerous weapons such as poison gas, for example. They also banned murdering wounded enemies and soldiers who tried to surrender, because those killings aren’t necessary to win a war.

Later, after the horrors of World War II, the laws of war were expanded to protect civilians.

Developing all these rules has taken well over a century. Nations agreed to them because everyone has a shared interest in limiting some of the worst aspects of how war is fought. The goal is to keep everyone caught up in war as safe as possible, while accepting that some innocent people will still die.

What are war crimes?

The rules of war are set out primarily in four treaties from 1949 called the Geneva Conventions. Every country in the world accepts these rules, which have been expanded several times in the years since.

The Geneva Conventions are very specific about what warring nations cannot do during an armed conflict. The things they cannot do are called war crimes.

Here is a partial list of war crimes:

• Deliberate killing that is not justified by a legitimate military objective.
• Torture.
• Inflicting severe harm on enemies.
• Taking hostages.
• Wounding or killing a soldier who has surrendered.
• Attacking civilians not participating in the conflict.
• Using certain prohibited weapons.
• Starving people as a weapon of war.

How are war crimes punished?

Most people generally agree that these are good rules and that warring countries should try to obey them. The problem is enforcement.

War crimes are committed not by entire countries but by individual people, such as soldiers who torture the captured enemy or destroy a family’s crops unnecessarily. Since individuals commit the crimes, individuals must be held responsible.

Many countries have laws stating what can and cannot be done during war. They generally reflect the rules of the Geneva Conventions. However, history shows that governments are often reluctant to prosecute their own soldiers for war crimes. Accusations of such crimes are often ignored, punished lightly or dismissed.

That’s why the International Criminal Court exists. In 1998, representatives from 160 countries met in Rome to create this world court, which can investigate, bring to trial and decide the guilt or innocence of individuals accused of war crimes and certain other international crimes.

“Justices,” Digital, Midjourney, 2025

Today, 124 countries have accepted the court’s authority. If war crimes are committed in these countries, the court can act. In 2014, for example, the head of a rebel force in the Democratic Republic of Congo was convicted of murder and deliberately attacking civilians; he was put in prison for 12 years.

However, several big and powerful countries have not consented to the authority of the International Criminal Court, including the United States, China and Russia. Many countries in which brutal wars have occurred also reject its powers, including Iraq, Israel, Syria, Sudan and Yemen. This limits its powers.

Additionally, the International Criminal Court has no international police force to arrest suspects. It relies on governments to detain people accused of war crimes and deliver them to the court.

Again, not all of them cooperate. National leaders have sometimes traveled abroad after International Criminal Court arrest warrants were issued against them and have not been arrested.

Finally, interpreting international law can be tricky.

It is a war crime to deliberately attack civilians, but countries at war with each other still bomb apartment buildings, hospitals and schools sometimes, claiming enemy forces are inside those buildings. If true, that could make the buildings legitimate military targets – though international law still requires militaries to do everything possible to minimize civilian casualties.

What next?

Right now, you may be thinking: If people aren’t punished for breaking the rules of war, do these rules even matter?

It’s a reasonable question. But consider this: Countries have had criminal laws against murder and robbery for thousands of years, yet these crimes are still committed. The concept of war crimes has been around for a much shorter time. It is not surprising that not all war criminals can be brought to justice, but I think the fact that most countries now agree that war crimes should be prohibited is important.

Plus, when war crimes are investigated and condemned, victims may feel that their suffering will not be forgotten. Even if no one is punished, proving a crime was committed has value.

International law isn’t easy to enforce, but at least most of the world now recognizes that even wars must have their limits.

Hurst Hannum, Professor of International Law, Fletcher School of Law & Diplomacy, Tufts University

This article is republished from The Conversation under a Creative Commons license. Read the original article.

For over a decade, Türkiye has been a staunch supporter of the Syrian opposition, providing military aid, diplomatic support, and serving as a key logistical hub for rebel forces. However, this commitment has come at a significant cost to Ankara.

The influx of Syrian refugees has strained Türkiye’s economy and demographics, while the prolonged conflict has also led to diplomatic tensions between Türkiye and the US, UAE, Russia, and Iran.

The civil war has further exposed Türkiye to security threats, including cross-border attacks and the rise of extremist groups, which led Ankara to launch multiple military operations in northern Syria to establish a “safe zone” along the Syrian border.

Despite these challenges, Ankara now sees an opportunity to shape Syria’s future in line with its strategic interests, aiming to leverage the investments and sacrifices made over the course of the 13-year conflict.

Fall of Assad and the Umayyad Mosque as a symbol

Before the rebel offensive in late 2024, Assad’s regime controlled key parts of Syria, including major cities such as Damascus, Aleppo, Homs, and Hama. Many believed Assad had won the civil war, with rebel groups mostly confined to the north.

Recognizing Assad’s strengthened position, Turkish President Recep Tayyip Erdoğan began efforts to normalize relations between Ankara and Damascus. However, Assad consistently demanded the withdrawal of Turkish forces from northwest Syria as a condition for any diplomatic progress, a demand that Ankara refused to meet.

This diplomatic impasse persisted until late 2024, when a major rebel offensive led to the swift collapse of Assad’s regime.

Just four days after the fall of Damascus, the head of the Turkish National Intelligence Organization (MİT), İbrahim Kalın, visited Damascus and prayed at the Umayyad Mosque.

Following Kalın’s visit, Türkiye reopened its embassy in Syria for the first time in 12 years.

On December 22, Turkish Foreign Minister Hakan Fidan met with Syria’s new de facto leader Ahmed al-Sharaa (previously known by his nom de guerre Abu Mohammed al-Jolani) in Damascus. Fidan was the first foreign minister to visit Damascus since Assad’s fall.

In September 2012, Erdoğan claimed that he would soon pray at the Umayyad Mosque in Damascus, implicitly suggesting that Assad’s regime would be overthrown and that a new, Sunni-dominated leadership would emerge in Syria.

For years, the phrase “praying at the Umayyad Mosque” had been adopted by the Turkish opposition as a critique of Erdoğan’s foreign policy on Syria, suggesting that the anti-Assad policies of Erdoğan have failed.

This is why Kalın’s visit to the Umayyad Mosque was seen as a direct reference to Erdoğan’s 2012 speech.

Photo of Damascus by Juma Mülhem at Pexels.com

Refugees, Economy, and Reconstruction

Türkiye’s main goals in Syria include facilitating the return of refugees, securing its southern borders, countering Kurdish autonomy movements, and maximizing its influence over Syria’s new government. Turkish Interior Minister Ali Yerlikaya announced that 35,114 Syrians have returned since the overthrow of Bashar al-Assad, with expectations that the number of returns could increase further after the school semester ends.

In addition to these security and humanitarian goals, Türkiye also seeks to play a significant role in Syria’s reconstruction. Following Assad’s overthrow, shares of Turkish construction and cement companies surged, driven by expectations that they would benefit from the anticipated rebuilding efforts. Several Turkish media outlets referenced a UN report estimating that Syria’s reconstruction would require at least $400 billion, which many pro-government sources view as a major economic opportunity for Türkiye.

Türkiye has already outlined plans to contribute to Syria’s reconstruction, including initiatives in infrastructure. Transport Minister Abdulkadir Uraloğlu announced an action plan focusing on improving Syria’s transportation network, with particular attention to Aleppo and Damascus airports, the Hejaz Railway, and the M4 and M5 highways.

Additionally, Uraloğlu stated that Türkiye aims to negotiate a maritime demarcation agreement once a permanent government is established in Syria.

In terms of energy cooperation, Energy Minister Alparslan Bayraktar emphasized the importance of Türkiye’s partnership with Syria, including supplying electricity and collaborating on oil and gas projects. He also described the revival of the Qatar-Türkiye-Europe natural gas pipeline as “an extraordinary opportunity.”

Obstacles

Pro-government media, nationalist groups, and neo-Ottomanist social media accounts in Türkiye celebrate Syria’s new Sunni-dominated leadership as a Turkish expansionist victory, citing examples such as speculation about Turkish potentially becoming an official language in Syria.

This sentiment is echoed by pro-government figures like Cem Küçük, a staunchly nationalist pundit, who uses Turkish nationalist and neo-Ottoman rhetoric to express his views on Syria and the broader region. He stated: “Would it be bad if we had Aleppo? Would it be bad if we had Mecca and Medina? Would it be bad if we had Jerusalem? 82 Jerusalem, 83 Damascus, 84 Mecca, 85 Medina, 86 Cairo.”

His mention of numbers assigned to cities refers to Türkiye’s license plate system, where each of the 81 provinces has an assigned number. By referring to “82” and beyond, he makes an irredentist statement about Türkiye annexing new provinces or territories.

While many media outlets view post-Assad Syria as falling within Türkiye’s sphere of influence, the reality is more complex.

To increase its influence on the new Syrian government and benefit from Syria’s reconstruction, Türkiye first needs a stable, pro-Türkiye regime in place.

The Syrian National Army (SNA) is widely recognized as a proxy force for Türkiye, relying heavily on Turkish support for funding, equipment, and strategic direction. In contrast, Hayat Tahrir al-Sham (HTS), formerly linked to al-Qaeda, operates with greater autonomy compared to the SNA.

Although Türkiye has officially designated HTS as a terrorist organization, recent developments suggest a more nuanced relationship. Reports indicate that Turkish intelligence has engaged with HTS, and US President-elect Donald Trump also acknowledged that Türkiye’s support helped HTS topple Assad’s regime.

However, it’s important to note that HTS is not directly controlled by Türkiye.

So far, Türkiye’s alliances with both the SNA and HTS have significantly shaped its role in Syria. However, once the dust settles, Türkiye will need to carefully navigate the complexities of these relationships and the diverse interests of various armed factions in Syria to achieve its long-term goals.

( Middle East Monitor ) – When Israel’s far-right extremist finance minister Bezalel Smotrich acknowledged in October his aim for a Jewish state that encompasses not only all of the Palestinian territories, but also extends to Syria, some speculated about how such a goal would be achieved. In Israel’s classic strategy of “bit by bit”, according to Smotrich, Tel Aviv will eventually have to cut further into Syrian territory as “it is written that the future of Jerusalem is to expand to Damascus”.

That ominous admission threw further light on the potential pursuit of the Zionism’s “Greater Israel” project, which would cover Jordan, Lebanon, part of Egypt, Syria, Iraq and part of Saudi Arabia. The occupation state would claim the lands as its own and impose Israeli statehood on the local people, unless they too suffer ethnic cleansing as the Palestinians have.

If Israel’s extremists take Damascus, the region will be destabilised; the regional chessboard will be overturned. They would not simply be taking on resistance groups — as is the case in Gaza and Lebanon — but they would also need to invade and conquer an independent, sovereign state. The more covert, proxy dynamics in place up until now would be replaced by a full-scale state v state war. It’s a risky endeavour.

However, the ouster of the Assad regime on 8 December left a security vacuum that enabled Israel to destroy Syria’s major military defence capabilities and deploy its armed forces further into Syrian territory beyond the occupied Golan Heights. Israeli forces are now just kilometres from Damascus.

Assad’s supporters have responded with glee, of course, because this strengthens their spurious claims that the dictator was the only one standing in the way of such an Israeli invasion; that the “axis of resistance” against Israel is now weakened; and that the new Syrian authorities are complicit with the occupation state and even acting as its agent.

Such allegations, though, can be dismissed, not least because the Assad regime has been in contact with Israel for years, and never took any action to regain its territory annexed by Israel or otherwise challenge the occupation. Moreover, the Israeli attacks and destruction of Syria’s defence capabilities more likely prove that Tel Aviv is extremely wary about its new neighbours in charge of Syria.

More than anything, Tel Aviv saw Assad as a useful buffer against any real threat.

It knew that his regime would never mobilise against Israeli forces, at least not effectively. Israeli policy towards Assad has for decades been to maintain a Syria that was strong enough to oppress its own people but never strong enough to pose a military threat in the neighbourhood.

The new Syrian government’s initial attitude towards the Israeli moves into Syrian territory have done little to discredit the allegations of collaboration with the Zionist state as they grapple with this dilemma. Consider, for example, the comments by the governor of Damascus, Maher Marwan, in an interview with NPR, in which he expressed understanding that “Israel may have felt fear” after the fall of Assad, “so it advanced a little, bombed a little, etc.” He has, on the face of it, taken what is in effect an invasion of his country very lightly indeed.

Damascus aims to have cordial relations with Israel, he claimed, stating that, “We have no fear toward Israel, and our problem is not with Israel.” He reportedly stressed that, “We don’t want to meddle in anything that will threaten Israel’s security or any other country’s security. We want peace, and we cannot be an opponent to Israel or an opponent to anyone.” Moreover, a spokesman for HTS avoided the question of Israel’s 300 air strikes on Syria when questioned by Britain’s Channel 4 News.

Syria’s de-facto leader Ahmed Al-Sharaa – also known by his nom de guerre, Abu Mohammad Al-Julani – has expressed his willingness to return to the 1974 agreement with Israel and once again have UN peacekeepers deployed within the demilitarised zone in the Golan Heights.

“We do not want any conflict whether with Israel or anyone else and we will not let Syria be used as a launchpad for attacks,” Al-Sharaa told the Times in London earlier this month. “The Syrian people need a break, and the [air] strikes must end and Israel has to pull back to its previous positions.”

“The White and Blue over Damascus,” by Juan Cole, based on Unsplash images spliced with IbisPaint and processed by Clip2Comic, 2024

Syria’s interim government, rather than having any genuine sympathy towards Israel and its actions, seems to understand the fact that Syrian forces have little to no significant military capabilities to counter the Israeli occupation forces, let alone to launch any kind of offensive to recapture occupied territory.

Given that Israel is reported to have destroyed around 80 per cent of Syria’s air, land and sea defence capabilities, Al-Sharaa is taking a pragmatic approach. His main mission is to stabilise the domestic situation in a number of ways, chiefly by consolidating the security position and striking an agreement among former anti-Assad groups to unite under the Defence Ministry; disarming former regime soldiers; and trying to absorb Kurdish fighters into the new Syrian Army.

In terms of government, the new authorities are still organising their administration. The interim cabinet will serve until March 2025, at least, and a “National Dialogue Conference” is planned to determine the issue of Syria’s governance.

Al-Sharaa is also making efforts to strengthen Syria on the diplomatic front.

He has hosted numerous delegations from the international community over the past three weeks, and secured a number of significant deals covering the rebuilding of Syria’s infrastructure and the revival of its aviation systems. He now seeks to have all sanctions lifted so that the Syrian economy can be revived, and to persuade the US and other Western powers to remove the group which he heads, Hay’at Tahrir Al-Sham (HTS), from their “terrorist” lists.

Syria’s new leader and the people around him know that doing or saying anything against Israel will likely damage their efforts to stabilise their country. With neither the military capabilities nor diplomatic leverage in place, they know that they cannot force the occupation state to the negotiation table. Moving against Israeli forces in south-west Syria despite the obvious security threat that they pose, will block any real chance of the incoming Trump administration and other Western governments delisting HTS and giving formal recognition to the new government in Damascus.

Nevertheless, Al-Sharaa has a couple of cards up his sleeve to challenge Israel’s encroachment on Syrian territory: Turkiye and the Gulf States. Turkiye’s involvement in the former opposition offensive and the ouster of Assad is no secret, and it has already expressed support for Syria’s new leadership on military, infrastructural and economic terms. Damascus could well utilise that partnership to have Ankara not only strengthen the new administration, but also to serve as a counterbalance to Israel.

While that may be tempting, it is an option that would be perceived as aggressive. Senior Israelis, including former army officers as well as media outlets are already expressing concern that Turkiye is taking the place of Iran and Russia in Syria and this, claim some, is “limiting Israel’s freedom of action”.

The Gulf States, however, provide a more diplomatic option for Damascus.

Saudi Arabia, the UAE and even Qatar – although Israel would be sceptical of the latter – have made overtures to the new Syrian authorities, and they could be expected to invest heavily in Syria’s economy and infrastructure in the coming years. Such partnerships could be used to get Damascus and Tel Aviv talking.

For now, therefore, Syria’s administration is using a diplomatic hand to counter Israeli aggression, in the hope that the occupation state will not see Al-Sharaa and his colleagues as a security threat. The big question is: how will Israel respond?

The views expressed in this article belong to the author and do not necessarily reflect the editorial policy of Middle East Monitor or Informed Comment.

Muhammad Hussein is an International Politics graduate and political analyst on Middle Eastern affairs, primarily focusing on the regions of the Gulf, Iran, Syria and Turkey, as well as their relation to Western foreign policy.

This work by Middle East Monitor is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike 4.0 International License.

Russia and Iran were major allies of Syria under the regime of President Bashar al-Assad until the totalitarian leader was ousted by rebels in early December.

The West is closely watching the new ruler’s actions, including the depth of any future ties with Tehran and Moscow.

“Syria cannot continue without relations with an important regional country like Iran,” Sharaa told Al Arabiya in a wide-ranging interview on December 29.

But relations “must be based on respect for the sovereignty of both countries and noninterference in the affairs of both countries,” he added.

Sharaa urged Tehran to rethink its regional policies and interventions and pointed out that opposition forces protected Iranian positions during the fighting to oust Assad, even though rebels knew Iran was a major backer of the president.

Sharaa said he had expected positive overtures from Iran following these actions but said they have not been forthcoming.

Sharaa, previously known by the nom de guerre Abu Muhammad al-Jolani, said that while he expects Moscow to withdraw its forces from Syria, he also spoke of “deep strategic interests” with the “second most powerful country in the world.”

“Ahmad al-Shara,” Digital, Dream / Dreamland v3/ Clip2Comic, 2024

“We don’t want Russia to exit Syria in a way that undermines its relationship with our country,” he told Al-Arabiya, without providing details.

“All of Syria’s arms are of Russian origin, and many power plants are managed by Russian experts…. We do not want Russia to leave Syria in the way that some wish,” he said.

According to flight data analyzed by RFE/RL, Russia is reducing its military footprint in Syria and shifting some of its assets from the Middle Eastern country to Africa.

To offset the potential loss of its air base in Hmeimim and naval base in Tartus, Russia appears to be increasing its presence in Libya, Mali, and Sudan, although experts say the loss of Syrian bases is a major blow to the Kremlin.

Meanwhile, Sharaa also said that organizing elections in the country could take up to four years and that a new constitution could require three years to be finalized.

The leader expressed hope that the new U.S. administration under Donald Trump — set to take office on January 20 — would lift sanctions on his country.

“We hope the incoming Trump administration will not follow the policy of its predecessor,” Sharaa said.

The rebels who ousted Assad were led by Sharaa’s Hayat Tahrir al-Sham (HTS) Islamist group, a U.S. and EU-designated terrorist organization.

Sharaa has publicly pledged to adopt moderate policies regarding women’s rights, national reconciliation, and relations with the international community, although world leaders say they remain wary of the new rulers pending concrete actions.

RFE/RL

Copyright (c)2024 RFE/RL, Inc. Used with the permission of Radio Free Europe/Radio Liberty

(The Conversation) – After the fall of the al-Assad regime in Syria, large stockpiles of the illicit drug captagon have reportedly been uncovered.

The stockpiles, found by Syrian rebels, are believed to be linked to al-Assad military headquarters, implicating the fallen regime in the drug’s manufacture and distribution.

But as we’ll see, captagon was once a pharmaceutical drug, similar to some of the legally available stimulants we still use today for conditions including attention-deficit hyperactivity disorder (ADHD).

Captagon was once a pharmaceutical

Captagon is the original brand name of an old synthetic pharmaceutical stimulant originally made in Germany in the 1960s. It was an alternative to amphetamine and methamphetamine, which were both used as medicines at the time.

The drug has the active ingredient fenethylline and was initially marketed for conditions including ADHD and the sleeping disorder narcolepsy. It had a similar use to some of the legally available stimulants we still use today, such as dexamphetamine.

Captagon has similar effects to amphetamines. It increases dopamine in the brain, leading to feelings of wellbeing, pleasure and euphoria. It also improves focus, concentration and stamina. But it has a lot of unwanted side effects, such as low-level psychosis.

The drug was originally sold mostly in the Middle East and parts of Europe. It was available over the counter (without a prescription) in Europe for a short time before it became prescription-only.

It was approved only briefly in the United States before becoming a controlled substance in the 1980s, but was still legal for the treatment of narcolepsy in many European countries until relatively recently.

According to the International Narcotics Control Board pharmaceutical manufacture of Captagon had stopped by 2009.

“Bashar as Dealer,” Digital, Dream / Dreamland v3, 2024

The illicit trade took over

The illegally manufactured version is usually referred to as captagon (with a small c). It is sometimes called “chemical courage” because it is thought to be used by soldiers in war-torn areas of the Middle East to help give them focus and energy.

For instance, it’s been reportedly found on the bodies of Hamas soldiers during the conflict with Israel.

Its manufacture is relatively straightforward and inexpensive, making it an obvious target for the black-market drug trade.

Black-market captagon is now nearly exclusively manufactured in Syria and surrounding countries such as Lebanon. It’s mostly used in the Middle East, including recreationally in some Gulf states.

It is one of the most commonly used illicit drugs in Syria.

A recent report suggests captagon generated more than US$7.3 billion in Syria and Lebanon between 2020 and 2022 (about $2.4 billion a year).

What we know about illicit drugs generally is that any seizures or crackdowns on manufacturing or sale have a very limited impact on the drug market because another manufacturer or distributor pops up to meet demand.

So in all likelihood, given the size of the captagon market in the Middle East, these latest drug discoveries and seizures are likely to reduce manufacture only for a short time.

Nicole Lee, Adjunct Professor at the National Drug Research Institute (Melbourne based), Curtin University

This article is republished from The Conversation under a Creative Commons license. Read the original article.