DAMASCUS: Sahar Diab had visited Damascus’s famed Umayyad Mosque previously. But as the Syrian lawyer went there to pray during her country’s first Ramadan after the end of the Assad family’s iron-fisted rule, she felt something new, something priceless: A sense of ease.
“The rituals have become much more beautiful,” she said. “Before, we were restricted in what we could say ... now, there’s freedom.”
This Ramadan, such are the realities of a Syria undergoing complex transition. Relief, hope and joy at new openings — after 53 years of the Assad dynasty’s reign, prolonged civil war and crushing economic woes — intermingle with uncertainty, fear by some, and a particularly bloody and worrisome wave of violence.
“We’re not afraid of anything,” Diab said. She wants her country to be rebuilt and to get rid of Assad-era “corruption and bribery.”
At the Umayyad Mosque, the rituals were age-old: A woman using a prayer bead and kissing a copy of the Qur’an; the faithful standing shoulder-to-shoulder and prostrating in prayer; the Umayyad’s iconic and unusual group call to prayer, recited by several people.
The sermon, by contrast, was fiery in delivery and new in message.
The speaker, often interrupted by loud chants of “God is great,” railed against Assad and hailed the uprising against him.
“Our revolution is not a sectarian revolution even though we’d been slaughtered by the sword of sectarianism,” he said.
This Ramadan, Syrians marked the 14th anniversary of the start of their country’s civil war. The conflict began as one of several popular uprisings against Arab dictators, before Assad crushed what started as largely peaceful protests and a civil war erupted.
Many Syrians speak of omnipresent fear under Assad, often citing the Arabic saying, “the walls have ears,” reflecting that speaking up even privately didn’t feel safe. They talk of hardships, injustices and brutality. Now, for example, many celebrate freedom from dreaded Assad-era checkpoints.
“They would harass us,” said Ahmed Saad Aldeen, who came to the Umayyad Mosque from the city of Homs. “You go out ... and you don’t know whether you’ll return home or not.”
He said more than a dozen cousins are missing; a search for them in prisons proved futile.
Mohammed Qudmani said even going to the mosque caused anxiety for some before, for fear of getting on security forces’ radar screen or being labeled a “terrorist.”
Now, Damascus streets are bedecked with the new three-starred flag, not long ago a symbol of Assad’s opponents. It flutters from poles and is plastered to walls, sometimes with the words “God is great” handwritten on it.
One billboard declares this the “Ramadan of victory.” On a government building, the faces of former Presidents Bashar and Hafez Assad are partly cut off from a painting; in their place, “The Freedom” is scribbled in Arabic.
Haidar Haidar, who owns a sweets shop, said he was touched that new security force members gave him water and dates while he was out when a call to prayer signaled that those fasting can eat and drink.
“We never saw such things here,” he said, adding that he used to recite Qur’anic verses for protection before passing through Assad’s checkpoints.
Many dream of a new Syria, but exactly how that would look remains uncertain.
Damascus resident Wassim Bassimah said Syrians must be mindful to protect their country from sliding back into civil war and should maintain a dialogue that is inclusive of all. “The external enemies are still there.”
