Between State Collapse and the Birth of Democratic Self-Defense
When the spark of the Syrian revolution ignited, it was not a call for violence or a plea for chaos, but rather a cry for dignity from a people long crushed under the yoke of tyranny. Instead of heeding the suffering of its people, the defunct regime chose to respond with bullets and brutality, transforming the state—which was supposed to protect its citizens—into an instrument of oppression, displacement, and extermination. At that fateful moment, when the state betrayed its moral and political duty, becoming a source of danger instead of a shield of security, the oppressed peoples had no choice but to seek new forms of protection; for survival itself had become a luxury afforded only to those with backing. It is therefore unsurprising that some Syrian factions, having lost all faith in the oppressive central state, turned to local or even foreign powers, seeking protection or alliances. When a state abandons its role as guarantor of justice, equality, and security, and transforms into an organized criminal enterprise targeting segments of its own society, the people are no longer obligated to pledge allegiance to it. On the contrary, they acquire the right to defend their existence by seeking support and building protective alternatives, thus becoming part of a resistance movement against genocide and displacement. This confirms that the modern nation-state is not a champion of democracy but rather an instrument of domination, marginalizing diversity and entrenching centralism at the expense of peoples and cultures. In its Syrian context, this model has been catastrophic: a repressive security state that has transformed society into an arena of surveillance, fear, marginalization, murder, genocide, and displacement. It was not built on trust but on suspicion; not on participation but on subjugation. And the result? A fragmented society, each part searching for an external lifeline, not because it is treacherous, but because it has lost hope that any ruling regime after the criminal Assad regime will be a state for all Syrians. Therefore, when any party pursues policies similar to those of the defunct, criminal Assad regime, which transformed Syria into a slaughterhouse and a vast prison for all who disagreed with it, it is no wonder that it finds itself isolated, while the oppressed communities search for ways to survive outside its destructive framework.
Peace that is practiced, not imposed.
The truth is that true democracy is not built on domination or denial, but on mutual recognition, decentralization, and trust among its constituent groups. It is not imposed from above, but rather springs from below, from the womb of suffering and collective consciousness. It is a collective life that emerges from the self-awareness of communities and is nourished by daily participation, mutual recognition, and organic decentralization. Therefore, any genuine national project today must begin with an explicit acknowledgment of the failure of the oppressive state and the necessity of building a new political system that excludes no one and does not force anyone to choose between humiliation and exile. The fact that any request for protection from an external party under the new system is not shameful, but rather a stark indicator of the depth of the wound inflicted by the defunct regime and the chronic inability of the current regime to be a state for all Syrians or a truly social state—a state based on a social contract, not on guns. The solution, in reality, is not simply building a new political system in Syria, but rather beginning with an explicit acknowledgment of the failure of the oppressive state and the necessity of replacing it with a decentralized, pluralistic model that restores people’s confidence in their ability to protect themselves. This protection will not be achieved through weapons alone, but through justice, participation, and mutual recognition. Weapons without a democratic project become a new tool for domination. And democracy without a societal defense mechanism is a dream destined to be crushed. Therefore, the solution lies not in reproducing centralism in the name of sovereignty, nor in deepening denial and assimilation in the name of national unity, but in building self-governing democratic societies—societies that determine their own destiny and coexist with others on the basis of equality, not subservience. In this model, language is not merely a tool for communication, but the essence of collective existence; culture is not a luxury, but the foundation of peaceful resistance; and decentralization is not separation, but a prerequisite for genuine unity. The truth is that true peace does not come from top-down agreements signed behind closed doors, but from below: from daily dialogue between Arab and Kurd, Muslim and Christian, Druze and Arab, Sunni and Alawite, man and woman, building together a school, agriculture, a local council. It is a peace that is not imposed, but practiced. It is the only force capable of healing wounds and rebuilding trust. This is the essence of community defense, which is not merely military formations or human shields, but a living network of democratic relationships where every individual becomes a guardian of the dignity of others, because their own dignity is intertwined with it. In other words, protection is built for the sake of protection, not for domination. Schools must teach each group in its mother tongue, and all groups must be partners in decision-making and in defending their community. This is the essence of democratic self-defense, which allows every Syrian to say honestly: “This is my homeland, not a prison.”
