US Sanctions on Syria: From Hafez al-Assad to al-Sharaa 

A customer inspects mangoes at a fruit stall in Damascus’s Al-Shaalan market, which now sells varieties that were unavailable during President Bashar al-Assad’s rule, such as kiwi, bananas, and pineapples. (AFP)
A customer inspects mangoes at a fruit stall in Damascus’s Al-Shaalan market, which now sells varieties that were unavailable during President Bashar al-Assad’s rule, such as kiwi, bananas, and pineapples. (AFP)
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US Sanctions on Syria: From Hafez al-Assad to al-Sharaa 

A customer inspects mangoes at a fruit stall in Damascus’s Al-Shaalan market, which now sells varieties that were unavailable during President Bashar al-Assad’s rule, such as kiwi, bananas, and pineapples. (AFP)
A customer inspects mangoes at a fruit stall in Damascus’s Al-Shaalan market, which now sells varieties that were unavailable during President Bashar al-Assad’s rule, such as kiwi, bananas, and pineapples. (AFP)

Syrians have lived under the shadow of US sanctions for 46 years, spanning generations who know no other reality. These sanctions have become woven into every aspect of daily life, from banking and international aviation to construction and food supplies. Their burden has fallen hardest on ordinary people, rather than on the symbols of the ousted Assad regime.

While lifting sanctions now would undoubtedly unlock planning and reconstruction efforts, political and security concerns persist, and Syria’s dilapidated infrastructure may impede private-sector investment.

Most importantly, we must ask whether US President Donald Trump’s move to begin lifting sanctions was as improvised as his 2018 announcement to withdraw militarily from Syria, or whether it marks a pivotal shift in US foreign policy toward Syria.

On May 13, during his visit to Saudi Arabia, Trump announced the lifting of US sanctions on Syria. This triggered a period of confusion and internal reviews before his administration outlined an initial mechanism that balanced implementing his announcement with addressing his advisors’ worries over unfettered engagement with the new Syrian leadership.

Before assessing this current phase of easing sanctions, we need a historical overview of them, their context, underlying rationale, implementation methods, and what their potential impact might be for Syria and its people. Sanctions on Syria can be divided into three eras: under Hafez al-Assad, under his son Bashar, and now under interim President Ahmed al‑Sharaa.

Shift toward Iran (1979–2000)

US sanctions on Syria began in 1979, following the Camp David Accords between Egypt and Israel and the rise of Iran’s revolution. With the end of the strategic alliance between Cairo and Damascus, Hafez al-Assad viewed Iran’s emerging regime as a counterweight to Iraq and Israel.

Washington designated Syria a state sponsor of terrorism in 1979 due to its role in Lebanon and its support for fighters opposed to Israel. Consequently, the US imposed restrictions on foreign aid, defense exports, and the transfer of dual‑use goods. In November 1986, President Ronald Reagan barred Syrian planes from landing in the US.

The Iraq War (2001–2010)

Sanctions entered a new phase as US policy shifted after the September 11, 2001 attacks and the invasions of Afghanistan and Iraq, coinciding with Bashar al‑Assad’s arrival to power in July 2000. In his 2002 State of the Union, President George W. Bush labeled Iran, Iraq under Saddam Hussein, and North Korea the “Axis of Evil”, prompting Iran to form a “Resistance Axis” that included Syria and Hezbollah.

With these strains came stricter measures: the Syria Accountability and Lebanon Sovereignty Act of 2003, enforced by OFAC at the US Treasury in 2004 under Executive Order 13338, targeted Syria’s role in Lebanon and its pursuit of weapons of mass destruction, as well as its opposition to the US-led occupation of Iraq.

On May 7, 2025, the Trump administration signed a notice extending the national emergency concerning Syria until May 7, 2026, encompassing executive orders from 2003 to 2012.

The Syrian uprising and Caesar Act

Following Syria’s uprising in March 2011, the US imposed a wave of sanctions targeting violence and human rights abuses. President Barack Obama’s April 29, 2011 executive order froze Assad regime assets, followed by an August 2011 ban on oil, asset freezes, and broad trade prohibitions, excluding food and medicine.

However, the defining moment came with the Caesar Civilian Protection Act of 2019, signed by Trump in December 2019 and implemented in June 2020. Targeting infrastructure, military maintenance, energy, and those funding the Assad regime, it also banned foreign investment in Syria’s reconstruction. This legislation aimed to check both Russian and Iranian influence and serve as leverage for negotiations with Moscow, permitting temporary waivers if productive talks occurred.

Though enacted long after the internal conflict began, the Act functioned less as a response to internal dynamics and more as an economic restraint on reconstruction efforts.

Al‑Sharaa after Assad

By late 2024, with Bashar al-Assad’s regime fallen and Trump back in power, Syria had not been a US priority, with internal debate over how to engage the new al‑Sharaa administration. That shifted after Trump spoke with Türkiye’s President Recep Tayyip Erdogan on March 16, signaling alignment with Turkish‑Saudi policy against the hardline Israeli stance.

In Saudi Arabia, Trump began rolling back sanctions on Syria, but the fate of the Caesar Act remains uncertain, currently suspended in 180‑day increments, extendable. Although it was briefly lifted for humanitarian relief during the Feb 2023 Türkiye-Syria earthquakes and in areas controlled by the Syrian Democratic Forces (SDF), its full repeal remains on hold.

Mechanisms and challenges

Trump’s administration has implemented three key executive measures: Treasury’s “GL‑25” on May 23, enabling sweeping economic coverage; a 180‑day suspension of Caesar sanctions; and a specific waiver for the Commercial Bank of Syria via the US Financial Crimes Enforcement Network, allowing re‑establishment of correspondent banking relationships.

GL‑25 has no set expiry and can be revoked anytime, while Caesar waivers renew every six months. An earlier GL‑24 waiver, issued in January, allowed limited official and energy sector transactions and personal transfers, but US banks have remained cautious.

The permit covers four sectors: finance, oil‑gas, maritime shipping, and aviation. US persons remain barred from transactions that may benefit Russia, Iran, or North Korea, meaning rigorous due diligence is necessary. The original executive orders remain in force, although press reports suggest possible cancellations.

Procedurally, Syria remains on the State Sponsors of Terrorism list, as removal would require Congress to be notified by the US State Department. The Department of Commerce and State’s defense trade regulators have yet to remove export controls, which means that Syria still falls under International Traffic in Arms Regulations, necessitating export licenses for most goods, excluding basic food and medicine.

Furthermore, Hayat Tahrir al‑Sham is still designated a Foreign Terrorist Organization. Even after al‑Sharaa met Trump, the Treasury’s waiver excludes HTS leader Abu Mohammed al‑Golani, al-Sharaa's former nom de guerre, who remains sanctioned under UN Security Council Resolution 1267, supported by a likely Russian veto of any attempt to remove HTS from global blacklists. Arms embargoes and surveillance‑tech restrictions will also persist.

The Caesar Act itself was renewed by Congress in January 2025 for five years, lasting until January 2030 unless overturned legislatively and its suspension may be extended in November 2025. But these continue as temporary waivers, not full repeals.

US politics and Congressional dynamics

Legislative repeal would require Act passage in Congress. Ironically, Trump’s allies in this are Democrats, as many Republicans, especially senators, remain wary.

Senate Foreign Relations Committee Chair Jim Risch remarked that Trump lifted sanctions a bit more than what was expected, but cautioned that the sanctions could come back. US energy firms, together with Syrian‑American groups, have lobbied Trump to ease sanctions, while pro‑Israel lobby AIPAC insists any relief must hinge on demonstrable positive behavior from the new Syrian government.

Impact on economy and society

In 2018, the UN estimated at least $250 billion would be required to rebuild Syria fully, far beyond what domestic resources can furnish.

Serious barriers remain: destroyed roads, hospitals, and power networks hinder basic services. Reviving industry needs massive investment; millions displaced internally or abroad need rehousing; food, fuel, medical gear, and decent jobs are in short supply.

Even a partial lifting marks a seismic shift: essential imports like food, medicine, and technology could flow more freely; reconstruction of schools, hospitals, and roads becomes feasible; frozen international assets might be unfrozen, inviting foreign companies back to construction, energy, and trade.

The most immediate relief will come from reconnecting Syrian banks to global payment systems, especially SWIFT, dismantling the economic collapse born of widespread distrust. Yet Syria remains on the FATF grey list, deterring banks and obstructing liquidity, so regulatory frameworks must be built.

Future prospects

Ambitious domestic and regional projects have surfaced under al‑Sharaa, with some contracts bypassing competitive bids. The UAE has been granted an $800 million concession at the Port of Tartus, via a Dubai Ports World MoU, to develop multi-purpose terminals, industrial zones, dry ports, and logistics hubs.

Meanwhile, a 30‑year deal with French CMA CGM was signed to develop Latakia Port. China’s VDL company secured rights to 300,000 m² in the Adra Free Zone outside Damascus for 20 years to build industrial and commercial facilities with tax breaks, labor flexibility, and repatriable profits.

A Qatari-US-Turkish energy consortium plans a $7 billion, 5,000 MW power project.

All are seen as steps to lure foreign capital and reshape Syria’s foreign policy by leveraging international corporate interests.

Uncertain transition

The sanctions regime hinges on three pillars: Syria’s State Sponsor designation (since 1979), the Syria Accountability Act (2003), and the Caesar Act (2019). Only the first may soon shift, pending a State Department and Congressional review; the others remain entrenched.

While Syria will not likely see a flood of US investment tomorrow, the first visible presence would probably involve Turkish and Gulf investors, as the US must first verify the stability and reliability of the new Syrian leadership before enabling wider investors to return.

Damascus does not fully control its territory or armed factions, and fresh sanctions may target entities linked to coastal violence in recent months.

Thus, Caesar’s intent has transitioned from coercing the Assad regime to ensuring al‑Sharaa’s good behavior. But its six‑month renewals offer limited investor certainty, making regional neighbors the marginal beneficiaries.

Al‑Sharaa’s teams may aim to woo Trump with bold reconstruction plans akin to a Marshall Plan. But Trump isn’t easily swayed. He has yet to appoint an ambassador to Damascus; instead, US Ambassador to Türkiye Tom Barrack was named envoy to Syria, indicating Syria remains an extension of Turkish policy.

Trump is unpredictable and could reverse course swiftly, but current signs still point to provisional waivers rather than a full repeal of sanctions.



Sweida’s Druze, Bedouin Tribes Locked in Historic Grievances

Druze woman from Israeli-Occupied Golan gazes toward Syria (Reuters)
Druze woman from Israeli-Occupied Golan gazes toward Syria (Reuters)
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Sweida’s Druze, Bedouin Tribes Locked in Historic Grievances

Druze woman from Israeli-Occupied Golan gazes toward Syria (Reuters)
Druze woman from Israeli-Occupied Golan gazes toward Syria (Reuters)

Sweida, a province in southern Syria, is teetering on the brink after days of deadly violence and clashes between local communities and government security forces, an unrest that signals deeper turmoil across the war-battered country.

The latest flare-up has laid bare tensions that go beyond the provincial borders, raising concerns about the future of coexistence and civil peace in a region long known for its rich tapestry of religious, social, and cultural diversity.

While the Syrian government in Damascus seeks to reassert control over all of its territory, local groups are renewing calls for greater recognition of their rights and “distinct identity.” The result is a fragile and combustible equation in a strategically vital region.

Sweida has long been a flashpoint, shaped by decades of uneasy relations between Druze communities and neighboring Bedouin tribes. That legacy of mistrust now intersects with a crumbling economy, a lack of essential services, the rise of armed factions, and a newly entrenched central authority in Damascus, factors that together threaten to turn the province into a flashpoint for wider instability.

Competing narratives have further muddied the waters, with each side offering starkly different versions of recent events, accounts that are often shaped not just by what happened in the past few days, but by long-standing grievances and buried animosities. The deepening rift and absence of trust among local communities highlight just how far Syria remains from reconciliation.

As pressure builds, observers warn that without a sustainable political solution that acknowledges local demands while maintaining national cohesion, Sweida may be a harbinger of further unrest in Syria’s uncertain future.

Power Struggles and Fractured Alliances

In Syria’s Sweida, power is fragmented among a complex web of religious authorities, influential families, and rival armed factions, a fractured landscape that reflects the broader divisions tearing at the country.

Local leadership is split between traditional Druze clerical authorities and prominent families, each with their own loyalties and varying degrees of influence on the ground. Political rivalries run deep, and military factions are equally divided, some aligning with the government in Damascus, while others openly challenge it.

Among the most prominent pro-government groups is the “Madafat al-Karama” faction led by Laith al-Balous, son of the late Druze leader Sheikh Wahid al-Balous. He is seen as a key ally of Damascus, alongside Suleiman Abdel-Baqi, commander of the “Ahrar Jabal al-Arab” group.

On the opposing side are factions such as the “Military Council in Sweida” and “Liwa al-Jabal” (Mountain Brigade), which collectively field around 3,000 fighters. These groups are seen as aligned with the views of influential Druze spiritual leader Sheikh Hikmat al-Hijri, who has been increasingly critical of the central government.

A newer alliance has also emerged under the banner of “Counter-Terrorism Forces” or the “Syrian Brigade Party,” bringing together factions such as “Dir’ al-Tawhid,” “Forces of Al-Ulya,” “Sheikh al-Karama,” “Saraya al-Jabal,” and “Jaysh al-Muwahideen.” This coalition formally severed ties with Damascus following Sheikh Hijri’s speech on July 15, in which he rejected the government’s announcement of a ceasefire agreement with local notables.

Also active in the province is the “Men of Dignity Movement,” a relatively large faction led by Abu Hassan Yehya al-Hajjar. Though not officially aligned with the new coalition, the group is also staunchly opposed to the Syrian government.

The growing number of factions and rival power centers has deepened instability in Sweida.

Bedouin Tribes in Sweida Say They Are Marginalized, Blamed and Forgotten

Even after government forces withdrew and a fragile ceasefire took hold in Sweida, clashes reignited, this time between Druze residents and Bedouin tribes, underscoring the deep and historical grievances simmering beneath the surface of the country’s sectarian fault lines.

The Bedouin, who see themselves as long-marginalized stakeholders in the region, say they have been caught in the crossfire - blamed for violence they did not initiate and excluded from political life and public services.

“We are the perpetual scapegoats,” said Mohammad Abu Thulaith, a lawyer and member of the Sweida Tribal Council. A descendant of one of the Bedouin tribes long at odds with the Druze population, he told Asharq Al-Awsat that “Bedouins are the weakest link in the local power struggle.”

The sense of injustice voiced by Abu Thulaith runs deep and is rooted in historical narratives. According to his account, the Druze - who migrated to the Jabal al-Arab area around two centuries ago - gradually expanded their influence, curbing the pastoral livelihoods of the Bedouin, particularly livestock herding. This, he said, led to the forced migration of nearly half of the Bedouin tribes from the mountain region toward Jordan, rural Damascus, and Daraa.

He cited the example of Saad Hayel al-Surour, a former speaker of the Jordanian parliament, who remains a Syrian citizen to this day. His father, Hayel al-Surour, once headed the Syrian parliament before the 1958 union between Syria and Egypt.

Many in the Bedouin community consider themselves the original inhabitants of the land, victims of what they describe as “a prolonged injustice” that denied them citizenship rights, political representation, and even basic services.

Abu Thulaith argues that the source of current tensions must be addressed at its roots. “We are blamed because the other side does not dare confront the real actors behind the violence,” he said, referring to armed groups operating in the area.

He called on the Druze tribal leadership - often referred to as “the people of the mountain” - to assume responsibility for protecting the Bedouin community and ending decades of exclusion. “We’ve suffered from a double injustice,” he said. “One at the hands of the Assad regime and Baathist rule, and the other from our neighbors. We have no access to employment, no political representation, and we’re deprived of the most basic public services.”

Despite the mounting frustration, Abu Thulaith insists that the Bedouin do not seek confrontation. “We don’t have the means to fight,” he said. “All we want is to live in peace with our neighbors. No one can erase the other. Since the fall of the former regime, tribal communities have hoped the state would step in to offer protection and ensure the most basic rights.”

As tensions in Sweida continue to spiral, voices like Abu Thulaith’s are demanding a deeper national conversation about identity, land, and the future of Jabal al-Arab - one that addresses long-neglected wounds before they erupt into further conflict.

Druze Grapple with a Perpetual Identity Crisis

For Syria’s Druze minority, identity is not just a question of culture or belief, it is a matter of survival. That fear of erasure has long shaped their political instincts, social structures, and geographic presence in the country.

“The Druze, like many minorities, live with a constant sense of threat,” said Khaldoun Al-Nabbouani, a professor of political philosophy at the University of Paris and a native of Sweida. “This persistent anxiety drives them to close ranks around their identity in a collective effort of self-preservation.”

Speaking to Asharq Al-Awsat, Al-Nabbouani explained that the community’s inward turn is not only symbolic or cultural - it also manifests demographically. “Just as the Alawites are concentrated in the coastal mountains, the Druze have built their stronghold in Jabal al-Arab. It reflects a broader pattern among minorities to cluster in specific regions where they can reinforce their social cohesion and safeguard a perpetually anxious identity.”

That reflex dates back centuries. The very formation of the Druze sect, he said, was a political and cultural rebellion against traditional Islam. “Since its inception, the community has developed a deep need for internal solidarity and social insulation,” he said. “Even today, that’s visible in things like marriage practices - interfaith unions remain extremely rare.”

This insularity, he noted, extends to the political realm. The community has historically resisted the appointment of governors or officials from outside the Druze fold, a trend dating back to the 1930s and continuing into recent decades. One of the more controversial examples was the appointment of a non-Druze governor under the government of Ahmad Al-Sharaa, which sparked uproar, resignation, and a political standoff before the governor ultimately returned.

Tensions between the Druze and the central government are nothing new. Under President Adib Shishakli in the early 1950s, relations with Damascus deteriorated sharply. Shishakli accused the Druze of plotting against the state and in 1954 ordered artillery strikes on Jabal al-Arab, an assault that killed civilians, displaced families, and left deep scars that still echo in local memory.

When the Baath Party seized power in 1963, Damascus shifted tactics, pursuing what Al-Nabbouani described as a policy of “soft containment.” Symbolic appointments of Druze figures to government positions were coupled with tight security oversight in Sweida, a strategy aimed at managing rather than integrating the province.

As new waves of unrest ripple through southern Syria, the Druze community once again finds itself wrestling with existential questions caught between historical trauma, present instability, and an uncertain future.