Der Trupp bärtiger Kämpfer schiebt sich vorbei an den Autos, die sich in der schmalen Gasse drängen. Die interessierten Blicke streifen die Auslagen der Zuckerbäcker und Händler des Suq al-Hamidiya, des berühmten Markts in der Altstadt von Damaskus. Trügen sie nicht Tarnkleidung und Sturmgewehre über die Schulter, man hätte sie für Touristen aus der Provinz halten können.
Sie kommen aus dem Osten, aus Deir ez-Zor, und der jüngste von ihnen, Abu Anas, war noch nie in seinem Leben in der Hauptstadt. „Wir hatten hier schon etwas anderes zu tun“, sagt er auf die Frage, ob sie auf einer Besichtigungstour unterwegs seien, und lacht.
Der Truppführer, der augenscheinlich nicht in Plauderstimmung ist, flüstert eisig: „Sag dem Deutschen, dass wir hier sind, um das syrische Volk zu befreien.“ Aber Abu Anas lässt sich die joviale Stimmung nicht verderben. „Wenn das hier vorbei ist, will ich weiterstudieren“, sagt er. „Computertechnik“. Das Gespräch wird kurz unterbrochen, als ein Händler hinzutritt und Bonbons verteilt.
„Ihr Ziel ist, dass das Leben weitergeht“
Islamistische Kämpfer aus allen Teilen Syriens sind in Damaskus Teil des Straßenbildes. Sie stehen Wache vor den Palästen des gestürzten Machthabers Baschar al-Assad, besetzen Regierungsgebäude, regeln den Verkehr. Oder sie ziehen mit einem Becher Eiscreme in der Hand durch die Altstadt. Inzwischen ist das Leben wieder dorthin zurückgekehrt. Auch wenn Sorgen bleiben – die Beklemmung, die in den ersten Tagen nach dem Sturz des Regimes über der syrischen Hauptstadt lag, weicht. Überall füllen sich Cafés, öffnen Geschäfte. Freudenschüsse, die einige unbeabsichtigte Todesopfer gefordert hatten, sind merklich weniger geworden.
Die neue Ruhe geht Hand in Hand mit einer Machtübernahme: Nach und nach sind Kämpfer der sunnitischen Islamistenallianz „Hay’at Tahrir al-Scham“ (HTS) in Damaskus eingerückt, um die Kontrolle zu übernehmen. Die wirken diszipliniert und folgen den Anweisungen ihres Anführers Abu Muhammad al-Golani, sich von ihrer toleranten und freundlichen Seite zu zeigen. Während die islamistischen neuen Machthaber sich bemühen, einen sicheren Alltag zu organisieren und das Vertrauen der Bevölkerung zu gewinnen, haben hinter den Kulissen schon Machtkämpfe begonnen.
“Their primary goal is for life to go on,” Anas Joudeh, a leader in Damascene civil society, says of the new leadership. “She works hard to ensure that public services function,” he reports. They also promised representatives of the Chamber of Commerce that they would make their lives easier and get rid of import restrictions imposed by the overthrown regime. “They said they didn’t want to get involved and just asked to charge fair prices,” says Joudeh.
He is actually well connected in the political circles in Damascus. But he doesn’t know the new rulers. “I still don’t know how to call them,” he says. “There is no transparency at all.” Joudeh sees the danger that Syria, under HTS leadership, will develop into an Islamist service dictatorship along the lines of the United Arab Emirates – only without petrodollars.
There is unease in the city administration
There is also unease among those who are supposed to help keep the services running. “They are about to take over the whole place,” said a senior Damascus city official who did not dare be quoted by name. The governor and many other top officials have already been fired. They would be replaced with HTS personnel who do not come from Damascus, but from other areas such as Aleppo or Idlib.
“Some of them are experienced technocrats,” says the official. The newly appointed governor, for example, was educated in the West, studied at an American university and has experience with large-scale projects. “But they don’t come from Damascus, and that’s a problem.” There are big cultural barriers, he adds. “
They take off their shoes when they come to a meeting and leave suddenly to pray. “The people here don’t know this, and they don’t know the people here.” For example, he received many concerned calls from people who ran restaurants and nightclubs that served alcohol and didn’t dare to reopen them. The new Sharia scholar, who is supposed to lead the judiciary and appears in traditional robes, is driving the secular elites around.
And the official reports another concern with which he is not alone: that the Islamists’ robust approach is leading to new fighting with other rebel groups. The first insurgents to enter Damascus from outside came from the south. They and the Islamists from the north reject each other. “The groups from the south have already complained that they feel ignored,” says the official, and similar things can also be heard from other sources.
The old Damascene bourgeoisie, which is also distant from the regime, seems to be having a harder time dealing with the new rulers from the province. His representatives mockingly greet each other on the telephone with religious formulas. In the neighborhoods where ordinary people live, the cultural barriers that the official speaks of are significantly lower. The people who are still celebrating the fall of the regime in Umayyad Square come from the lower classes and have much more in common with the fighters from the provinces. They not only shout “Syria is free”, but also “Allahu Akbar”.
For example, an old woman says on television: “Our boys are in power now.” She is happy that she can now go to a police station without fear. In old insurgency strongholds, where the residents come primarily from the Sunni lower class, the change of power appears to be taking place without any major disruption. “We are now taking over and are accepted by the population,” says an HTS official in Darayya, a southern Damascus suburb that suffered a brutal regime siege. The HTS leadership is currently collecting weapons from the population.
Be patient with the new rulers
The majority of the population also does not seem to be affected by the trench warfare in the administration and among the rebel groups. The superficial stability shapes the attitude. Even in an upper-class district of Damascus one encounters youthful confidence. A group of students are sweeping the streets and removing trash that has accumulated during the days of chaos. “We now finally have the feeling that the country belongs to us too,” says one of the group. “Now we want to make a contribution.”
He not only wants to clean up his neighborhood, but also the regime’s old narratives, which were intended to sow distrust between population groups and which still shape his parents’ generation. The rebel fighters he encountered were friendly and respectful. “I believe in people.”
In a small hardware store near the Hamidiya market, a group of men come to the conclusion that Syrians are just getting to know each other a little better. “At first I was scared,” says the owner. “But I spoke to a few fighters and there were doctors and pharmacists there.” He wants to be patient with the new rulers if they leave him alone. “The power supply was already a catastrophe, as was the economic situation.”
When he is distracted because he is finally selling something again, a coffee pot, a Shiite friend speaks up. “They told the people in my neighborhood they could just get on with their lives.”
They also prayed with the people at the Shiite Ruqayya shrine. “Look at it,” he demands. But the site, which just a few years ago featured Shiite militiamen from Iraq, Lebanon and Afghanistan, is closed. “It should open again soon,” says a dealer opposite, whose guild has already adapted to the new power structure.
Hezbollah devotionals and other souvenirs from Iran’s Shiite shadow kingdom have disappeared from the displays. “That was for the foreigners,” says the dealer. “But they’re long gone.”
