The red, white and black national flags that decorated the lampposts were also taken away and replaced with what is known as “independence flag”.Down the road, outside the city hall, a giant banner with a photo of Assad was taken down; another had his face riddled with bullets, and for whatever reason was being kept there.
Across aleppo,residents and the new authorities seemed eager too get rid of anything symbolising the Assads – bashar had come to power in 2000 after the death of his father Hafez,who ruled for 29 years.
I came to Aleppo for the first time as a student, in 2008, and banners with Assad’s face were prominent in public squares, streets and government buildings; all of them seemed to have been either removed or destroyed.
This was the first major city captured by Islamist-led rebels earlier this month, in their remarkable offensive that overthrew Assad and brought freedom to this country after five decades of oppression – at least for now.
Once a bustling commercial hub, Aleppo witnessed, and was ravaged by, intense battles between opposition fighters and government forces during the civil war, which started in 2011 when Assad brutally repressed peaceful protests against him.
Now, with Assad gone, many are coming back, from other parts of Syria and even abroad.
early in the war, East Aleppo, a rebel stronghold, was besieged by forces loyal to the regime and came under intense Russian bombardment. In 2016, government forces reclaimed it, a victory then considered a turning point in the conflict.
To this day, buildings remain destroyed, and piles of rubble wait to be collected.The return of the Assad forces meant that it was too risk for those who had fled to come back – until now.
“When the regime fell, we could raise our heads,” mahmoud Ali, who is 80, said. He left when fighting there intensified in 2012. He moved with his family to Idlib, in the country’s north-west, which, until two weeks ago, was the rebel enclave in Syria, run by Hayat Tahrir al-Sham (HTS), the group that led the anti-Assad offensive.
“Repression is what I say all my life in the hands of the Assad family. Anyone demanding any rights would be sent to jail. we protested because there was a lot of repression, especially on us, the poor people.”
His daughter,45-year-old samar,is one of millions in Syria who had only known this country being ruled by the Assads.
“Up until, nobody dared to speak up because of the terror of the regime,” she said.
“Our children were deprived of everything. they didn’t have their childhood.”
It is remarkable that these feelings were being shared so freely in a country where opposition was not tolerated; the secret police, known as the Mukhabarat, seemed to be everywhere and spying on everyone, and critics were disappeared or sent to jail, where they were tortured and killed.
Across Aleppo, the new authorities installed billboards with the image of chains around two wrists saying, “Freeing detainees is a debt upon our necks”.
“We’re happy, but there’s still fear,” Samar said. “Why are we still afraid? Why isn’t our happiness full? It’s as of the fear they [the regime] planted inside us”.
Her brother, Ahmed, agreed. “You could be sent to jail for saying simple things. I’m happy, but I’m still concerned. But we’ll
The family lived in a small flat, where electricity was intermittent and heating, nonexistent.
Now that they had returned, they did not know what to do, like many others here. More than 90% of Syria’s population is estimated to live in poverty,and there are broader concerns about how HTS,
which started as an al-Qaeda affiliate,will run the country.
A woman who lived in a flat nearby said, “No-one could take away my happiness. I still can’t believe that we came back. may God protect those who took the country back.”
At the main square, a man told me, “I really hope we get it right, and there isn’t a return to violence and oppression.”
At Mahmoud Ali’s flat, an “independence flag”, with its four red stars in the middle, had been drawn on a white paper, and put on the coffee table in the living room.
Samar, one of his daughters, told me, “We still can’t believe that Assad is gone.”
How do the new authorities in Aleppo plan to address the challenges of rebuilding and societal healing?
Interview: Time.news Editor and Middle Eastern Political Expert
Time.news Editor: Good day, and welcome to another insightful edition of our interviews. Today, we’re diving into the ongoing transformations in Aleppo, Syria, a city steeped in history and resilience. Joining us is Dr. Leila Mansour, a noted expert on Middle Eastern politics and societal changes. Thank you for being here, Dr. Mansour.
Dr. Leila Mansour: Thank you for having me. It’s a pleasure to discuss such an vital topic.
Editor: Aleppo has witnessed notable changes recently, especially with the removal of symbols associated with the Assad regime. Could you elaborate on what this indicates about the current sentiment among the residents?
Dr. Mansour: Absolutely. The removal of the Assad flags and posters is more than just a symbolic gesture; it reflects a broader desire for change among the people of Aleppo. After years of suffering under the regime’s rule, this shift signals a quest for identity and authority that contrasts starkly with the past. It’s an expression of hope and a longing for a new beginning.
Editor: Captivating. You mentioned a “new authority” in Aleppo. Who exactly are these new authorities, and what is their vision for the city?
Dr. Mansour: The new authorities are primarily led by Islamist groups that emerged during the civil war. They often emphasize a return to traditional values and are focused on restoring stability and security. Though, their vision is intricate and frequently enough contested, as diverse factions with differing ideologies exist within this leadership, which can lead to tension and conflict.
Editor: That makes sense. You mentioned that you frist visited Aleppo in 2008, where Assad’s image was pervasive. How does the current landscape compare to your experiences back then?
Dr. Mansour: The change is striking. When I visited in 2008, assad’s images were not just decorations; they were symbols of a regime that exercised tight control over every aspect of life. Now, with those symbols being removed, the atmosphere feels liberating, but it also carries an air of uncertainty. People are eager to reclaim their public spaces and express their identities, which is crucial for rebuilding trust within the community.
Editor: As residents gradually return to public spaces, what challenges do they face in this transition?
Dr. Mansour: The challenges are manifold. While there is an eagerness to start anew, remnants of war are still present, such as destroyed infrastructure and ongoing security issues. Additionally, there’s the fear of reprisals from loyalists still in Aleppo, which complicates the rebuilding efforts. True reconciliation and rebuilding will demand not just infrastructural efforts but also a deep-seated societal healing.
Editor: As we look ahead, what are some potential pathways for Aleppo in terms of governance and community relations?
Dr. Mansour: The future could take several paths.One possibility is the establishment of a more inclusive governance model that considers the diverse voices in Aleppo. Strengthening civil society and encouraging local participation are essential for sustainable progress. Though, if factions continue to vie for power without addressing the community’s needs, it could lead to further strife.
Editor: Thank you, dr. Mansour, for your insights and for shedding light on this complex situation. It’s evident that the path forward for Aleppo will require both resilience and collaboration from its residents.
Dr. Mansour: Thank you for the opportunity. It’s a crucial time for Aleppo,and I hope we see positive transformations as the community rebuilds.
Editor: And thank you to our viewers for tuning in. We’ll continue to follow the developments in Aleppo and provide updates on how this historic city evolves.