Jumblatt, Al-Sharaa, and the Wounds of the Two Assads

From faraway Moscow, he looks into Damascus—the city whose keys and destinies of its people he once held. It is only natural that he rubs his eyes in disbelief. The scene is difficult to comprehend, let alone endure. He knows this place line by line. It is the chair his father sat on fifty-four years ago. The same chair he himself occupied twenty-four years ago. A chair whose occupant vowed it would forever remain synonymous with the Assad name and legacy. But history has a way of turning against its tenants when they gamble recklessly, and when their machinery of oppression indulges excessively in cruelty.
How bitter it is to lose the palace, its seals, and its symbols of authority. To watch people storm statues and tear down images. Neither the Tsar intervened to challenge destiny, nor did the Supreme Leader. No ally rushed to rescue him, and he could not save himself. What a devastating scene for the distant observer: Syria without Assad, without Iran, without Hezbollah. Time has made its full circle.
He knows this place line by line. This is Hafez al-Assad’s chair, and after him, Bashar al-Assad’s. Now it is occupied by the person who is described today as “the strong man.” A man who has shed the cloak of “Abu Muhammad al-Jolani,” donned the suit of Ahmed al-Sharaa, and begun distributing reassurances and guarantees. What makes the scene even more striking is the name of the visitor: Walid Jumblatt. The son of Kamal Jumblatt. The companion of Rafik Hariri. The bearer of two coffins and the wounds of two Assads. When Jumblatt shook hands with Al-Sharaa, an entire era on the Beirut-Damascus axis came to an end.
For half a century, presidencies and leaderships were shaped along the Beirut-Damascus route. The Damascus political factory produced ministers, parliamentarians, and generals for Lebanon. The prestige of the Lebanese presidency, government, and parliament faded, as the Syrian officer stationed in Anjar held the reins of the lost republic and managed relations between its fractured components.
But Walid Jumblatt’s story is different. The leadership of his family spans four centuries, and it defies submission.
Kamal Jumblatt refused to recognize Hafez al-Assad’s claim to control Lebanon’s destiny, subjugate it, and recalibrate its political balances. His presence became an obstacle to Senior Assad’s ability to exercise the mandate he had been granted regionally and internationally to stabilize the turbulent small country. Jumblatt told Mohsen Ibrahim: “I know my fate and will not avoid it. I do not want history to record that I signed Lebanon’s entry into the great prison.” The bullets came swiftly. In March 1977, they pierced Kamal Jumblatt in his mountainous stronghold, and fate summoned his son Walid to don the mantle of leadership.
The young man, a lover of life and its bustle, managed to temper his anger and prevent his supporters from seeking vengeance. About forty days after the assassination, he entered Assad’s office, where the Syrian leader noted the striking resemblance between father and son. Walid opted not to drag his sect into a confrontation it could not endure. Preserving its historical existence became his overriding priority. He buried his wound, pretended to forget, but never truly did. His relationship with Assad Senior evolved into an alliance during the “Mountain War” in 1983. Later, Assad tolerated Jumblatt’s unpredictable moods whenever he sought to assert independence, protest, or diverge.
Walid Jumblatt’s relationship with Bashar al-Assad was marked by suspicion and caution, overshadowed by the legacy of Rafik Hariri. Unlike his father, Walid did not recognize Bashar’s authority to control Lebanon. Neither did Hariri. As Hariri would later put it: “I tried to be Bashar’s friend, but he refused. Walid tried too, and the result was the same. From the start, Bashar trusted the whisperers and those who wrote reports.”
Hariri’s assassination in 2005 became a dangerous turning point in Jumblatt’s relationship with Assad’s Syria. Jumblatt took the lead and went far. From Martyrs’ Square in Beirut, he struck at Assad’s image and launched sharp criticisms using the harshest terms.
Jumblatt dances with storms. He charges, retreats, and lies in wait. He exaggerates, apologizes, and recalibrates. He quiets himself, observes the winds, and then resumes his strikes. His veins burned when his mother shared with him a Chinese proverb that advises the wounded: “Sit by the riverbank and wait for your enemy’s corpse to pass.” Jumblatt sat and waited for a long time. He retraced the Beirut-Damascus path after Hezbollah leader Hassan Nasrallah managed to subdue Assad’s opponents for a few years.
Yet, no amount of reconciliation and rapprochement could heal what was in the heart. After the Syrian revolution erupted, Jumblatt visited Assad’s office and advised him to prosecute the killers of Hamza al-Khatib, the boy who became a symbol of the revolution. Assad’s response only deepened Jumblatt’s despair. His distance from the regime widened further after he heard a chilling warning from former Syrian army chief Hikmat al-Shihabi: “This boy will lead Syria into civil war and division.”
Even after Russia and Iran succeeded in salvaging Assad’s regime, Jumblatt resolved to “stand on the right side of history,” permanently closing the chapter on meetings with Assad, no matter the cost.
Assad’s absence brought Jumblatt back to the Beirut-Damascus road. Leading a delegation of lawmakers, party members, and clerics, he expressed his hopes for a united, stable Syria that respects diversity and accommodates all its components, including the Kurds, under the rule of law. The composition of the delegation reflected Jumblatt’s enduring concern for safeguarding the Druze community’s place within the Arab and Islamic context, particularly in light of recent moves by Netanyahu. Jumblatt hopes for normal relations between Lebanon and a new Syria, with meaningful cooperation on issues such as refugees, missing persons, border demarcation, and resolving the Shebaa Farms dispute.
The neighbors woke up to a new Syria. Iraq grappled with the implications and potential consequences. Jordan was similarly preoccupied. Questions abounded in Lebanon, especially among those concerned about the severing of the “Soleimani route” between Tehran and Beirut. Israel responded with overwhelming aggression. Only Turkiye appeared unfazed, having played a role in shaping the new reality. Meanwhile, the West began probing the intentions of the man now seated in Assad’s chair. Can Al-Sharaa dispel fears and anxieties both inside and outside Syria? Only time will tell.
Al-Sharaa shook hands with the bearer of two coffins and the wounds of the two Assads. A whole era waved farewell and slipped into history.