Rediscovering Hope: The Syrian Journey of Collective Healing
@Ghaith Alsayed/ AP. A shattered statue of the late Syrian president Hafez al-Assad atop a mountain in Deir Atiyah, Syria, Sunday, January 5, 2025.

Rediscovering Hope: The Syrian Journey of Collective Healing

The fall of the regime brought Syrians face-to-face with deeply repressed emotions, buried for over a decade of survival under unimaginable pressures. Among the most profound of these feelings was 'hope', which they chose to suppress, not out of doubt in the revolution's values, but because the cost of holding onto hope had become unbearably heavy.For years, Syrians faced a global narrative urging them to normalize despair. They were told, overtly and insidiously, that the status quo was unshakable, and that discussions could only begin with the permanence of Assad’s rule. But when that 'forever' suddenly started to crumble, Syrians found themselves grappling with a staggering question: Can we now hope? Is it truly possible? (Alkafri/Entabi, 2025, 8:22)

The weight of such a shift is a trauma of its own. Years of violence, displacement, and systemic neglect have left Syrians with what could be termed "post-Assad trauma", a burden so deep it transforms individual pain into a collective struggle.

But from the ashes of trauma sprang an awe-inspiring resilience. The very next day after the fall of the regime, Syrians ran to the streets, not out of rage but with a drive to reclaim what was taken. In an organic and spontaneous movement, they began cleaning streets, clearing public spaces, and removing authoritarian symbols such as statues, pictures, and spatial barriers that had occupied their urban landscapes for decades. These spatial symbols of oppression were replaced by a collective spirit of reclamation and agency. In those transformative acts, they dismantled both literal and figurative barriers to their shared spaces, reclaiming a sense of dignity and belonging that had been stolen.

This spontaneous insurgent behavior was as inspiring as it was powerful, an unmediated display of how deeply tied human agency and urban space are. It proved that healing doesn’t wait for permission or direction; it emerges in those first tangible acts of reclaiming one’s place in the world.

Drawing insights from studies on historical trauma and community reparations, healing requires much more than time; it demands acknowledgment, engagement, and action. Post-Assad Syria isn't just about rebuilding homes but restoring trust and dignity in people and institutions long fractured by war. It is about holding difficult dialogues to unearth silenced truths and reimagining futures through solidarity. (Koh, 2021; Knapp et al., 2022)

* What would sustainable, reparative recovery look like in our communities or urban planning? How do we create spaces where suppressed hope and collective healing can flourish?

Let’s reflect on how collective struggles can pave the way for a collective recovery. Share your thoughts, experiences, or ideas on fostering healing, both on personal and systemic levels. Together, we can explore what it means to hope again.

References:

  • Entabi, A. (2025, 01, 08).From Exclusion to Participation: Syrians in Public Space [Audio podcast episode]. Oyoun Elkalam. YouTube. URL: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iUjh0e4ZFzY
  • Koh, E. (2021). The healing of historical collective trauma. Genocide Studies and Prevention: An International Journal, 15(1), 115–133.
  • Knapp, C., Poe, J., & Forester, J. (2022). Repair and healing in planning: Promising experiences and grounded possibilities. Planning Theory & Practice, 23(3), 425–458.

Marh Echtai

PhD Researcher | Spatial Planner | Specialist in Climate Adaptation, Governance, and Post-Conflict Recovery

1 个月

Greta Samulionyte This was inspired by your recent posts series, thanks for triggering my thoughts!

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