Syria has been liberated. That’s the headline.
It’s a sentence that carries so much weight. For some, it’s a moment of hope.
For others, it’s the beginning of worry.
It’s easy to jump to conclusions when power shifts hands. But if there’s one thing the last decade should have taught us, it’s this: the fall of a regime is not the same as the rise of peace.
I remember the early debates about Syria. The case for intervention. The case against it. Back then, every side claimed moral high ground. Some said intervention would protect civilians. Others warned it would only lead to more destruction. Looking back, it’s hard to say anyone was completely right. What we do know is that ordinary Syrians paid the price.
This time, the situation feels eerily familiar. Assad is gone. Rebel forces have taken control. Images of freed prisoners fill social media feeds. Some of them spent years in dungeons like Saydnaya — a place so horrific it was called a “human slaughterhouse.”
For them, this moment is freedom. For their families, it’s justice.
But I’m holding back on total celebration. Not because I doubt the value of toppling a dictator, but because I know what happens next is just as important as what happened before.
When power shifts in the Middle East, the story rarely ends there. Leaders fall. New factions rise. Promises of “liberation” are made. And yet, too often, the people remain trapped in a cycle of violence and uncertainty.
We’ve seen this before. Libya. Iraq. Afghanistan. We cheer for the end of one era, only to watch another one begin—just as bloody, just as brutal.
The question on my mind isn’t, “Is Assad gone?” It’s, “What comes next?”
The West will face a choice soon. To recognize the new leaders or to isolate them. To engage or to retreat. If history is any guide, we won’t get this decision right unless we start thinking beyond the immediate.
If we cheer too soon, if we look away too quickly, we risk letting history repeat itself.
Hope isn’t a strategy.
This time, let’s not mistake liberation for the end of struggle.
This time, let’s be prudent. Let’s be vigilant.
For Syria, and the whole middle east.
Christos Floros 