In this powerful episode of This Is Democracy, we confront the seismic shifts unfolding in Syria—a nation ravaged by a brutal civil war for over a decade. The fall of the Assad regime, long believed indestructible, signals both the end of a horrific chapter and the uncertain beginning of another. Humanitarian activist and former student Mai Barazi becomes a bridge between the horrors of the past and cautious hope for the future.
The episode begins with Zachary Suri’s moving poem, At Once, which captures the abruptness of this moment: “So swiftly does the tyrant fall, not slowly but at once. So swiftly do the gunshots end, not slowly but at once.” The poem reflects the surreal nature of the regime’s collapse, a moment that felt unthinkable after years of prolonged suffering. Zachary reflects on its suddenness, observing, “It feels cathartic. It’s almost as though it happened when we least expected it.”
Mai Barazi, a tireless advocate for displaced Syrians, shares personal stories that illuminate the staggering human cost of the war. She recounts her father’s survival of the 1982 Hama massacre—a moment of unimaginable trauma. “He was lined up in front of a wall to be shot. The only reason he lived is because an officer recognized him. Minutes later, he heard the shooting. That guilt never left him.” Her own experiences of standing in peaceful demonstrations that turned violent, running from snipers and security forces, highlight the courage Syrians showed in resisting the regime. These memories are now paired with hope, as Syrians return to cities they fled years ago. “We’ve been preparing for the day after,” she explains. Since 2018, Mai has worked with displaced Syrians, especially women, teaching communication and conflict resolution skills. Her peace-building programs have graduated over 2,000 students, and yet, she insists, “I learned so much from them. These are survivors—many displaced two, three times—who still hold onto hope.”
For years, the Assad regime tightened its grip with Russian and Iranian support, crushing dissent and leaving half the population displaced or dead. Yet Mai explains that shifting international conditions—Russia’s preoccupation with Ukraine, Iran’s weakening influence—created the conditions for change. Still, the suddenness of Assad’s fall brings mixed emotions. There’s hope, yes, but also bitterness. Families are still waiting for loved ones who disappeared into prisons. For them, the hope is gone. Her description of the aftermath—mass graves, survivors emerging from cells unrecognizable to their own families—underscores the trauma that lingers even as Syrians celebrate.
When asked what comes next for Syria, Mai calls for Syrians to chart their own path forward. “Stay away,” she urges the international community. Let Syrians decide their future. Share your experiences, offer your expertise, but do not interfere. She fears outside agendas and revenge violence but advocates for transitional justice, a system of accountability without chaos. Despite the challenges, her optimism shines through. The young men and women who carried Syria through this moment, she says, deserve to have a voice in rebuilding a nation where everyone—regardless of religion or ethnicity—has a place.
Zachary reflects on the significance of this moment for young people around the world, many of whom have grown up with the Syrian war in the background. “It’s the sort of headlines that we often try to ignore,” he admits. Moments like this remind us that change can happen, even when we least expect it. I echo this sentiment, noting that “Horrible regimes last a long time, and then they fall fast. Paying attention is not just words—it’s a form of action.” In Syria’s case, the world must do more than watch. We must listen, learn, and insist on the basic humanity of its people.
The episode closes with Zachary’s poem once more, a reminder of the enduring resilience of the Syrian people: And just like that, hope can return, not slowly but at once. Amid unimaginable suffering, the fall of the Assad regime stands as a testament to human perseverance. For the millions who lived through this nightmare, the road ahead will be fraught with challenges, but it will also hold the promise of a new beginning. Syria’s story isn’t over, and it is up to all of us to keep paying attention.
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