What Has Assad’s Fall Revealed about the Captagon Drug Trade in Syria?

 A Syrian member of the opposition shows amphetamine pills known as Captagon hidden inside an electrical component at a warehouse where the drug was manufactured before the fall of Bashar al-Assad's government at a facility in Douma city, outskirts of Damascus, Syria, Friday, Dec. 13, 2024. (AP)
A Syrian member of the opposition shows amphetamine pills known as Captagon hidden inside an electrical component at a warehouse where the drug was manufactured before the fall of Bashar al-Assad's government at a facility in Douma city, outskirts of Damascus, Syria, Friday, Dec. 13, 2024. (AP)
TT

What Has Assad’s Fall Revealed about the Captagon Drug Trade in Syria?

 A Syrian member of the opposition shows amphetamine pills known as Captagon hidden inside an electrical component at a warehouse where the drug was manufactured before the fall of Bashar al-Assad's government at a facility in Douma city, outskirts of Damascus, Syria, Friday, Dec. 13, 2024. (AP)
A Syrian member of the opposition shows amphetamine pills known as Captagon hidden inside an electrical component at a warehouse where the drug was manufactured before the fall of Bashar al-Assad's government at a facility in Douma city, outskirts of Damascus, Syria, Friday, Dec. 13, 2024. (AP)

Since the fall of former Syrian President Bashar al-Assad, industrial-scale manufacturing facilities of Captagon have been uncovered around the country, which experts say helped flourish a $10 billion annual global trade in the highly addictive drug.

Among the locations used for manufacturing the drug were the Mazzeh air base in Damascus, a car-trading company in Latakia and a former potato chips factory on the outskirts of Damascus.

The factory that once produced the crunchy snack in the suburb of Douma under the name, Captain Corn, was seized by government forces in 2018.

"Assad’s collaborators controlled this place. After the regime fell... I came here and found it on fire," Firas al-Toot, the original owner of the factory, told The Associated Press. "They came at night and lit the drugs on fire but couldn’t burn everything."

"From here, Captagon pills emerged to kill our people," said Abu Zihab, an activist with Hayat Tahrir al-Sham, the main group now ruling the country, as his group gave access to journalists to the site.

Syria's nearly 14-year-old civil war fragmented the country, crumbled the economy and created fertile ground for the production of the drug. Militias, warlords and the Assad government transformed Captagon from a small-scale operation run by small criminal groups into a billion-dollar industrial revenue stream.

The recent ousting of Assad has disrupted these networks and has given a closer look at its operations — revealing the workings of a war economy that sustained Assad’s power over Syria. Experts say the change in Syria might create an opportunity to dismantle the Captagon industry.

How did Syria build its Captagon empire?

Captagon was first developed in Germany in the 1960s as a prescription stimulant for conditions like narcolepsy. It was later outlawed due to heart issues and its addictive properties.

Its amphetamine-like effects made it popular in the Middle East among both elites and fighters, as it enhanced focus and reduced fatigue.

Assad's government recognized an opportunity in the cheaply manufactured drug amid Syria’s economic turmoil and the heavy sanctions imposed on it.

Captagon is produced through a simple chemical process that involves mixing amphetamine derivatives with excipients to form tablets, typically in makeshift labs.

The Captagon trade began industrializing around 2018-2019 as the Assad regime — and other armed groups in Syria -- invested in production facilities, warehouses and trafficking networks. This allowed Syria to emerge as the largest producer of Captagon globally, with some production also occurring in Lebanon.

Most seized consignments of Captagon originated from Syria, according to data by the New Lines Captagon Trade Project, an initiative of the New Lines Institute think tank.

Evidence of the Assad regime’s sponsorship of the Captagon industry is overwhelming, the report published in May said. The Security Office of the 4th Armored Division of the Syrian Arab Army, headed by Bashar al-Assad’s brother Maher oversaw operations and created a coordinated production system, the report added.

Where and how was Captagon smuggled?

Captagon was smuggled across the border using various methods, hiding Captagon in trucks, cargo shipments and goods. Some shipments are concealed in food, electronics and construction materials to evade detection.

The primary smuggling routes were Syria’s porous borders with Lebanon, Jordan and Iraq, from which the drug is distributed throughout the region. Some were also shipped from Latakia port.

In Lebanon, the Captagon trade has flourished, particularly near the Syrian border and in the Bekaa Valley. Lebanese authorities struggled to curb the flow of Captagon from Syria, which analysts say was facilitated by the Hezbollah group, a key Assad ally.

Following the discovery of crates of fruit meticulously packed with bundles of the drug hidden among pomegranates and oranges, Saudi Arabia and the UAE implemented bans on Lebanese agricultural products.

Captagon has also found its way into international markets, reaching as far as Southeast Asia and parts of Europe.

How much revenue did it produce for the Assad regime?

The annual global trade in Captagon has an estimated value of $10 billion, with the ousted Assad family's annual profit reaching around $2.4 billion, according to Caroline Rose, director of the New York-based New Lines Institute Captagon Trade Project.

"Seeing the uncovering of so many industrial-scale facilities affiliated with the regime was shocking but not surprising. There was extensive evidence linking key regime-aligned cronies and Assad family members to the trade," said Rose, whose organization tracks all publicly recorded Captagon seizures and lab raids. The discovery of the facilities, she said, confirmed "the concrete relationship between Captagon and the former regime."

The exact number of factories in Syria remains unclear, but experts and HTS members estimate that there are likely hundreds spread throughout the country.

The future of Captagon in post-Assad Syria

Assad has turned Syria into "the largest Captagon factory in the world," HTS leader Ahmad al-Sharaa stated in a victory speech at Damascus’s Umayyad Mosque on Dec. 8. "Today, Syria is being cleansed, thanks to the grace of Almighty God."

While Assad and his circle may have been the primary beneficiaries, there is also evidence that Syrian opposition groups were involved in drug smuggling, opposition groups, local militias and organized crime networks manufactured and smuggled the drug to finance their operations, analysts say.

"Likely, we will see a short-term supply reduction in the trade, with a decline in the size and frequency of seizures as industrial-scale production is largely halted. However, criminal actors are innovative, likely seeking out new locations to engage in production and smuggling, particularly as demand levels remain stable," Rose said.

They may also "seek out alternative illicit trades to engage in instead," she said.

In addition to dismantling the Captagon trade, the country's transitional government should "establish programs for economic development that will incentivize Syrians to participate in the country’s formal, licit economic sphere," Rose said.



Damascus: ‘Pandora’s Box’ Opens for Its People and the World

Damascenes’ vitality quickly returns to the heart of Damascus (Asharq Al-Awsat)
Damascenes’ vitality quickly returns to the heart of Damascus (Asharq Al-Awsat)
TT

Damascus: ‘Pandora’s Box’ Opens for Its People and the World

Damascenes’ vitality quickly returns to the heart of Damascus (Asharq Al-Awsat)
Damascenes’ vitality quickly returns to the heart of Damascus (Asharq Al-Awsat)

Visitors to Damascus today can’t miss the city’s busy, fast-paced rhythm. Traffic jams clog the main entrances, intersections, and markets, while schoolchildren dart around their parents, backpacks in hand, at the end of the school day. These scenes bring a sense of normalcy, showing that daily life continues despite the challenges.

Cars with license plates from across Syria—Raqqa, Homs, and Idlib—mix with Damascus vehicles at intersections and working traffic lights. “This is new for us,” said a local. “We didn't see cars from these areas before.”

Amid the congestion, as drivers jostled for space, the man joked: “An Idlib plate now means ‘government car’—we’d better make way.”

With traffic police largely absent, a few members of Hayat Tahrir al-Sham have stepped in at key intersections to direct the flow. Still, residents seem to manage on their own, relying on self-organization.

As night fell, parks, cafes, and the bustling Shaalan Street in Damascus filled with families and young people. Crowds moved between juice stands, sandwich shops, and shisha cafes, many with foreign or English-inspired names.

The famed adaptability of locals is evident in small but significant changes. People quickly adjusted to using foreign and Arab currencies, garbage collection resumed swiftly, and even rules for non-Syrians buying SIM cards were amended.

Previously, foreigners had to register with an entry stamp and local address. Now, with Syrian border controls relaxed and monitoring left to the Lebanese side, new measures ensure SIM cards remain traceable without complicating the process.

The “revolution flag” now covers private cars, taxis, and shop entrances in Damascus. Many stores are offering discounts on clothing and shoes to celebrate “victory,” while street vendors eagerly sell the new flag, urging people to buy it with cheers and congratulations.

It’s unclear who genuinely supports the change and who is simply going along to stay safe, especially among small business owners. What is certain, however, is that public spaces have moved on.

From the Lebanese border to the heart of Damascus, slogans praising Assad and the “eternity” he symbolized have been wiped away.

Posters and billboards have appeared across Damascus, especially in Umayyad Square, with messages like “Syria is for all Syrians” and “Time to build a better future.” The slogans call for unity and a shared future for all citizens.

It’s unclear if this is part of an organized campaign by Hayat Tahrir al-Sham or just political improvisation.

Umayyad Square, now a “revolutionary site,” draws crowds day and night, eager to take photos near the historic monument and the abandoned statue of Hafez al-Assad. The scene speaks volumes about untold stories.

Once a key landmark of Damascus, the square is now Syria’s gateway to the world. Syrians from inside and outside the country flood social media with joyful images, while journalists and TV teams from around the globe report in multiple languages.

The atmosphere feels like the opening of “Pandora’s Box,” revealing both the good and the bad.

Journalists in the square, whom you later find in small local restaurants and hotel lobbies, bring to mind post-2003 Baghdad—another capital at a historic turning point, filled with people and emotions.

Like Baghdad, hotel lobbies here are full of contradictions, with journalists playing just a small role.

In these grand spaces, diplomats, UN staff, and translators sit alongside businessmen and contractors eager to capitalize on economic opportunities. While Damascus itself hasn't changed much, its need for basic services, especially electricity, is huge. Entire neighborhoods have been destroyed, with forced displacement, hunger, and fear almost touching the city's hotels and restaurants.

In these hotels, which have become a microcosm of Syrian society, Damascenes are meeting for the first time faction leaders and fighters from the north. Many of them, due to their circumstances, had never seen the capital or entered a hotel.

Their sense of victory is clear, but so is the confusion in their eyes and actions. For example, one might hesitate in an elevator, unsure whether to step out or stay, then greet you politely while avoiding eye contact.

In their military uniforms, with visible weapons and long beards, the fighters stand out in these historic hotels, with their elegant decor and refined staff.

This contrasts sharply with the ordinary Damascenes who visit hotel cafes and restaurants simply for peace and privacy. The fighters bridge the gap with their serious, guarded demeanor, though it softens with a joke from a friend.

Locals feel their “bubble” has burst, and their way of life has changed forever. Yet, most agree that nothing will be worse or last longer than what they’ve already experienced.