Rebel rule in Idlib is indicative of what lies ahead for the rest of Syria

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

A little more than a week ago, it was the only territory in the country under the control of 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 fifty-year dictatorship in Syria.

As a result, they have become the de facto authorities of the country and seem to be trying to transfer their way of governing to the rest of Syria.

In central Idlib, 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, as Assad was ousted. Graffiti on the walls celebrated resistance to the regime.

While destroyed buildings and piles of rubble were reminders of the recent war, renovated houses, newly opened shops and improved roads showed that some things had indeed improved. But there were complaints about what the authorities considered a harsh rule.

When we visited earlier this week, the streets were relatively clear, traffic lights and lampposts were working and staff were present in the busiest areas. Simple things that are not found in other parts of Syria, and that bring pride here.

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

As the militants marched into Damascus earlier this month, its leaders spoke of creating a Syria for all Syrians. However, the US, UK, UN and other countries, including Turkey, which supports some Syrian rebels, still label it a terrorist organization.

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

The administration, known as the Salvation Government, provides water and electricity distribution, garbage collection and road surfacing.

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

“Under Assad, they said Idlib was a forgotten city,” said Dr. Hamza Almaraweh, a cardiologist, as he treated patients at a hospital housed in an old post office.

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

“We’ve seen a lot of development here. There are many things in Idlib that did not exist under the Assad regime.”

Toning down its tone in an effort to gain international recognition among local opposition, HTS has lifted some of the strict social rules it imposed when it came to power, including a dress code for women and a ban on music in schools.

And some people point to recent protests, including against government-imposed taxes, as evidence that some level of criticism is being tolerated, unlike Assad’s crackdown.

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

“At first there were some problems, but in recent years they are doing better and trying to change.”

Originally from Idlib, Sayedisa now lives in Turkey, where she runs the NGO Violet. Like thousands of Syrians, Assad’s fall has meant he can revisit his city – in his case, for the first time in a decade.

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

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

We tried to interview a local official, but we 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 village of Kuniya, church bells rang for the first time in a decade on December 8 to mark Assad’s ouster.

The community, located near the Turkish border, has been bombed during the civil war that began in 2011 when Assad cracked down on peaceful protests against him, and many residents have fled.

Only 250 people remained.

“Since the fall of Assad, things have gotten better in Syria,” said brother Fadi Azar.

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

“They (HTS) have started to change in the last two years… It used to be very difficult,” Brother Azar said.

Property was confiscated and religious rituals restricted.

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

But are the changes real? Can they be trusted? “What can we do? We have no other option,” he said. – We trust them.

I asked activist Sayedisa why even opponents are reluctant to criticize the group.

“They are heroes now… (But) we have red lines. We will not allow dictators again, Jolani or anyone else,” he said, referring to Ahmed al-Shara, the HTS leader who dropped his military name of Abu Mohammad al-Jolani after taking power.

“When they act as dictators, people are willing to say no because now they have freedom.”