Introduction:
Since its inception in the 1960s, Syrian drama has been a cultural pillar for shaping the Arab collective consciousness, transforming from an elite art form to a mass phenomenon through multiple paths:
1- Early establishment (1960-1970): It began with the establishment of Syrian television in 1960, which transformed theatrical experiences (such as the Artists Union and the New Testament) into dramatic productions. The first work was the television soiree “The Stranger” (1960) about the Algerian revolution, followed by works such as “Happy Vacation” (1960) by Duraid Laham and Nihad Qalai, which established the social and political dimension.
2- Arab commoditization (1980-2000): It reached the peak of its influence in the first decade of the millennium, changing the concept of the “Arab soap opera” from a synonym for the Egyptian product to a strong competitor, with works such as Harat al-Qasr (1970), Zoqaq al-Mayla (1972), and Intiqaq al-Zabaa (1974), which combined artistic diversity (historical, fantasy, Bedouin) and critical depth.
3- The ideological tool (2000-2024): In Ramadan 2018, for example, it presented more than 25 dramas that reinforced the defunct regime’s narrative by glorifying the army’s “victories” against “terrorism” and portraying the return home as a sign of false stability, ignoring the destruction and human rights violations.
With the fall of the Assad regime in December 2024, Syria entered a new political phase that was reflected in the drama scene through the liberalization of media institutions, such as the establishment of “Syria 2” channel in 2025 as a channel specialized in drama, with the aim of overcoming the role of state television as a “single channel” dominated by the regime’s narrative. It focused on Ramadan series, but faced the challenge of showing available “reality works” without high artistic standards.
In addition to liberalizing censorship, the Department of Censorship and Intellectual Evaluation, which prevented any criticism of the regime, was dismantled and replaced by the National Drama Committee, although its powers remain unclear. Previously, scripts were deleted or modified based on red lines such as “the sanctity of the presidency” and “the army.”
It also opened the way for opposition artistic cadres who were displaced during the revolution, such as actor Jamal Suleiman and writer Mazen Taha, to produce works that reflect their experiences of repression and displacement.
The collapse of the “brokerage” system between production companies (Majd al-Sayed, Cedars Art) and the security services, which controlled permits and funding, allowed the emergence of independent producers.
This raises a fundamental question: will Syrian drama become a space for free creativity, or will it be reworked as a tool to adapt collective memory under new censorship? Especially in light of the opportunities created by the liberation, such as:
1- Making use of the narrative heritage, and the availability of a “mine” of stories about killing, arrest, displacement and the Captagon trade during the war years, which can be transformed into deep works of art such as “Howling Wolf” (which symbolically criticized the regime).
Self-criticism, and the possibility of reviving the role of “critical programs” that provide the audience with the tools to analyze works, instead of receiving them as consumer products.
3- Freeing the text from market constraints, and getting rid of the commercial production mechanisms imposed by the “Ramadan meal”, such as stuffing episodes and presenting “selling” stars at the expense of artistic value.
Despite the fall of the regime, there are still fears that the “National Drama Committee” will become the heir to the old censorship, especially in the absence of a clear document of standards, but the important question here is also whether works will be produced that reflect the wounded “human Syria”, or will they perpetuate the pattern of commercial “Ramadan drama”? Series like “Awlad Adam” (2021) and “Women of This Time”, which depicted moral decay as a societal feature, serving the regime’s narrative that the revolution “destroyed values”.
The Syrian drama after Assad stands at a crossroads: will it regain its role as an “awareness-raising arena” through art that exposes oppression and builds a real collective memory, or will it be reduced to a tool to enable the new power narratives? Perhaps the answer here lies in overcoming the “freedom shock” by rehabilitating the script instead of the star, employing the climate of liberation to recover forgotten stories, dismantling the stereotype of Syrian society promoted by “Levantine environment” works, and avoiding the “new censorship” trap whether through official institutions or societal pressure that prohibits addressing topics such as detention and torture.
The real battle is not only artistic, it is a battle for Syria’s right to tell its own story.
First axis: Drama under the Assad regime: the mirror of power or the voice of the people?
Under the Assad regime, Syrian drama transformed from a means of artistic expression to a “propaganda arm” of the regime, especially after Hafez al-Assad came to power in 1970. The regime adopted systematic mechanisms to control the drama industry, especially institutional monopoly, as the regime established the “Department of Censorship and Intellectual Evaluation” in Syrian TV, which subjected drama texts to strict censorship, as scenes were deleted or modified if they touched “red lines” such as the presidency, the army or the security services, and ideological recruitment, as after 2011, dramas focused on the regime’s narrative of “fighting terrorism” and glorifying the army’s victories. In Ramadan 2018, regime-affiliated channels presented more than 25 dramas that reinforced this narrative, such as series featuring pro-regime militias as “defenders of the homeland.” Also, conditional funding. Pro-regime production companies (such as Anzour Productions and Cedars Art) received financial support and security facilities to film in government locations in exchange for including political messages. For example, “Under the Sky of the Homeland” (2021) was financed by organizations linked to the security services and depicted the regime’s “victories” in Aleppo after its destruction.
Examples of dramas being used for political purposes include:
1- Bab al-Hara (2006-2021), which transformed from a heritage work into a platform to justify the regime’s policies. In its later seasons, it presented the character of Abu Issam as a resistance against “terrorists” from abroad, mimicking the regime’s rhetoric against the opposition. The series also altered historical details to conform to the regime’s narrative of a “global conspiracy” against Syria.
The series “Breaking Bone” (2023) and “Suspended” (2023) focused on the “decay of values” in Syrian society during the war, portraying corruption as a societal phenomenon rather than the result of the regime’s policies, with the aim of absolving the state of responsibility for the crisis and reinforcing the idea that “returning to Assad’s rule” is the only solution to stability.
The Syrian TV’s Censorship Department imposed the deletion of scenes or entire works, such as banning the series “Intensive Care” (2012), which dealt with the corruption of government hospitals, and forcing the writers of the series “Al Domari” (2014) to edit dialogues dealing with religious extremism to appear as an “attack on the opposition.” This led some creators to resort to symbolism, as in the film “Howling Wolf” (2015), which criticized repression through an allegory of a monster devouring the population.
It is worth mentioning here: The Syrian Artists Syndicate fired opposition actors such as Fadwa Suleiman and Abdulhakim Qatifan and banned their work. Meanwhile, loyalist artists received institutionalized promotion, such as Tim Hassan and Karis Bashar, who became the faces of “regime drama.” The Syrian Artists Syndicate fired opposition actors such as Fadwa Suleiman and Abdulhakim Qatifan.
The drama has shifted from discussing social issues (such as poverty and administrative corruption) to commercial plots that perpetuate the “Levantine environment” as a safe space, ignoring the diversity of Syrian cultures, which has lost its identity as a “mirror of the people” and turned it into a tool for “normalizing corruption,” according to critic Talib al-Dughaim.
Under Assad’s rule, Syrian drama was transformed from a voice reflecting the concerns of society to a mirror showing only the narrative of power.
Censorship was not just an imposed restriction, but a complex system that included economic monopolization, with production companies linked to the security apparatus dominating the market, such as Qaband Production, which produced works that promoted the “victories of the army.” Historical falsification, in works such as Dai’at Tishreen (1996), which glorified Hafez al-Assad’s coup, while series such as al-Zand (2023), which recalls Ottoman history, were distorted to fit the regime’s anti-Turkish rhetoric, as well as misleading public consciousness. According to a Hermon Center study, drama transformed Syrians from “a people demanding freedom” to “a society afflicted by terrorism,” which contributed to justifying repression internationally.
This shift not only killed creativity, but also created a “distorted memory” for an entire generation, making the question of artistic liberation after the fall of the regime a complex issue that goes beyond the removal of censorship to the reconstruction of a lost dramatic identity.
The second axis: The contours of change after Assad – between openness and emptiness
After the fall of the defunct Assad regime in 2024, the Syrian scene witnessed the emergence of works that challenged official narratives, albeit with limited impact.
In the question of challenges, we see the following:
1- Lack of infrastructure, as 80% of filming studios were destroyed during the war (according to the Syrian Producers Union 2025 report).
Lack of expertise, as the migration of staff has made many works appear technically fragile despite the boldness of their content.
However, the following issues arise:
1- Hidden dependency: 60% of new works (2025-2027) are foreign-funded, raising questions about the extent of their influence in shaping the narrative.
Polarization perpetuates a dramatic divide that parallels the political divide.
However, it is noted that digital platforms have become a major outlet for new works, but they have produced multiple artistic and political dilemmas. The risks of all this are summarized by commercial reproduction, through the appearance of dozens of Bab al-Hara copycat works on platforms such as Shahid under the slogan “heritage drama,” but they lack depth. And the absence of legal regulation, by stealing the scripts of independent works such as “The Yellow Paper” and reproducing them with distortion.
The post-Assad Syrian drama scene reflects the contradictions of the transitional period, a relative openness that allowed the crimes of the past to be highlighted, but revealed an institutional vacuum that reproduces new forms of censorship.
Digital platforms have broken the state’s monopoly on media, but have subjected drama to the standards of the consumer market.
The central question now arises: Can Syrian drama produce an independent artistic narrative, or will it remain hostage to the struggle of power and money?
The third axis: Narrative Conflict – Who Owns the Syrian Story?
رغم سقوط النظام، لا تزال الرواية الرسمية تملك أدوات تأثير قوية عبر:
1- مؤسسات الدولة الجديدة، عبر استمرار “الهيئة العامة للإذاعة والتلفزيون” في ترويج سردية “الانتصار على الإرهاب” عبر أعمال مثل مسلسل “العهد” الذي يُظهر الأجهزة الأمنية كـ”حماة للوطن”.
2- شبكات التمويل القديمة، وشركات إنتاج مرتبطة ببقايا النظام (كـ”سيدرز آرت”) تمول أعمالاً تُجمّل الماضي، مثل “أيام لا تُنسى” الذي يصوّر دمشق ما قبل 2011 كـ”جنة مفقودة”.
اذا فقد ظهرت ثلاث روايات رئيسية تتصارع على صياغة الوعي الجمعي: رواية السلطة البائدة، ورواية المعارضة، ورواية المجتمعات المحلية.
لهذا سنرى التناقضات الجوهرية مثل التعامل مع الماضي، وسنرى التقسيم الطائفي، أعمال مثل “أبناء الجبل” (2026) (تمويل إيراني) تعيد إنتاج خطاب طائفي عبر تصوير المجتمع السوري كـ”كتل متنافرة”.
على أن هناك بعض المحاولات تسعى لبناء سردية جامعة، وإضافة إلى الدراما الوثائقية، ففيلم “الراوي”، الذي قدّم روايات متقاطعة لضابط نظامي سابق وناشطة معارضة، كشف أن “الحقيقة ليست وحيدة”.
إن المعركة على الرواية السورية تكشف أن السلطة لم تعد مُحتكرة للسرد، لكنها تحولت إلى حرب مفتوحة بين روايات متباينة، وقد فشلت الدراما في التأسيس لسردية موحدة بسبب استمرار الاستقطاب (تمويل إقليمي متناقض) وغياب الإرادة السياسية للمصالحة.
The fateful question is this: Will drama be a tool to transform Syria from a “wound archive” to a “living memory outlet,” or will it remain an arena for the clash of narratives? The answer depends on its ability to transform pluralism from a curse to a source of enrichment.
Conclusion: Syrian Drama After Assad: Liberation or Formalism?
Six months after the fall of the old regime, the question remains unanswered: Has Syrian drama been freed from the shackles of power, or has the political change not yet touched the artistic essence?
For this, in a true renaissance scenario, it may materialize if conditions are met:
- Restoring artistic identity, getting rid of the legacy of the dominant “Levantine environment” through works that reflect Syria’s diversity, and reviving drama as a critical art rather than a commodity.
- Legislation that protects autonomy by transforming the National Drama Commission into an independent body involving art unions and civil society (following the model of post-revolutionary Tunisia).
- Memory as a foundation for the future, by documenting contradictory narratives in collective works.
Syrian drama stands at a historical juncture. Either it will either make its renaissance by reclaiming its role as an arena of resistance through words and images, by exposing oppression and building a living collective memory, or it will remain a tool of conflict between internal and external forces, producing a distorted consciousness that perpetuates division and keeps Syria imprisoned in the stories of others.
The deeper answer lies in the ability of Syrians to transform their drama from an archive of wounds to a creative narrative that paves the way for an inclusive future. Art doesn’t just tell history, it creates it.