The rebel government in Idlib signals what the rest of Syria can expect

The road to Idlib, a remote corner of northwest Syria, still bears the signs of the old front lines: trenches, abandoned military positions, rocket shells and ammunition.

Until just over a week ago, this was the only area of ​​the country controlled by the opposition.

From Idlib, rebels led by the Islamist group Hayat Tahrir al-Sham, or HTS, launched a stunning offensive that toppled Bashar al-Assad and ended his family’s five-decade dictatorship in Syria.

As a result, they have become the country’s de facto authorities and appear to be trying to bring their way of governing to the rest of Syria.

In central Idlib city, opposition flags, with a green stripe and three red stars, flew high in public squares and were waved by men and women, old and young, in the wake of Assad’s ouster. Graffiti on the walls celebrated resistance against the regime.

While the destroyed buildings and piles of rubble were a reminder of the not-so-distant war, the renovated houses, recently opened shops and well-maintained roads were evidence that some things had improved. But there were complaints about what authorities saw as a harsh rule.

When we visited earlier this week, streets were relatively clear, traffic lights and streetlights were working, and officers were present in the busiest areas. Simple things absent in other parts of Syria, and here a source of pride.

HTS has its origins in al-Qaeda but in recent years has actively sought to rebrand itself as a nationalist force, away from its jihadist past and intent on ousting Assad.

As the fighters marched into Damascus earlier this month, their leaders spoke of building a Syria for all Syrians. However, it is still described as a terrorist organization by the US, UK, UN and others, including Turkey, which supports some Syrian rebels.

The group took control of most of this region, home to 4.5 million people, in 2017, bringing stability after years of civil war.

The administration, known as the Salvation Government, manages the distribution of water and electricity, garbage collection and road paving.

Taxes collected from businesses, farmers and crossings with Turkey fund its public services as well as its military operations.

“Under Assad, they used to say Idlib was the forgotten city,” said Dr. Hamza Almoraweh, a cardiologist, as he treated patients in a hospital set up in a former post office warehouse.

He moved from Aleppo with his wife in 2015 as the war intensified there, but had no plans to return, even with the city under rebel control.

“We’ve seen a lot of development here. Idlib has a lot that it didn’t have under the Assad regime.”

While moderating its tone, seeking international recognition amid local opposition, HTS rolled back some of the strict social rules it had imposed when it came to power, such as dress codes for women and a ban on music in schools.

And some people cite recent protests, including against government-imposed taxes, as evidence that a certain level of criticism is tolerated, in contrast to the Assads’ crackdown.

“It is not a full democracy, but there is freedom,” said Fuad Sayedissa, an activist.

“In the beginning there were some problems but, in the last few years, they have done better and are trying to change.”

Originally from Idlib, Sayedissa now lives in Turkey, where she runs the non-governmental organization Violet. Like thousands of Syrians, Assad’s fall meant he could visit his city again, in his case, for the first time in a decade.

But there have also been demonstrations against what some say is authoritarian rule. To consolidate power, experts say, the group targeted extremists, absorbed rivals and jailed opponents.

“How the government will act in all of Syria is a different story,” said Sayedissa. Syria is a diverse country and after decades of oppression and violence perpetrated by the regime and its allies, many are thirsty for justice. “People are still celebrating, but they’re also worried about the future.”

We tried to interview a local official, but were told that they had all gone to Damascus to help with the new government.

An hour’s drive from Idlib, in the small Christian town of Quniyah, church bells rang for the first time in a decade on December 8 to celebrate Assad’s ouster.

The community, near the Turkish border, was bombed during the civil war, which began in 2011 when Assad crushed peaceful protests against him and many of its residents fled.

Only 250 people remained.

“Syria is better since Assad fell,” said Friar Fadi Azar.

The rise of the Islamists, however, has raised fears that minorities, including Assad’s Alawites, could be at risk, despite messages from HTS reassuring ethnic and religious groups that they would be protected.

“In the last two years, they (HTS) started to change… It used to be very hard,” said Fra Azar.

Property was confiscated and religious rituals were restricted.

“They gave (our community) more freedom, they appealed to other Christians who were refugees to take back their lands and houses.”

But is the change real? Can they be trusted? “What can we do? We have no other choice,” he said. “We trust them.”

I asked Sayedissa, the activist, why even opponents were reluctant to criticize the group.

“Now they are the heroes… (But) we have red lines. We will not allow any more dictators, Jolani or any other,” he said, referring to Ahmed al-Shara, the HTS leader who dropped his nom de guerre Abu. Mohammad al-Jolani after coming to power.

“If they act as dictators, the people are ready to say no, because now they have their freedom.”