Skip to main content
opinion
Open this photo in gallery:

Two insurgent fighters inspect the cells of the infamous Saydnaya military prison, just north of Damascus, Syria, on Dec. 9. Crowds are gathering to enter the prison, some hoping to find relatives who were held there, after thousands of inmates were released following the rebels' overthrow of Bashar al-Assad's regime on Sunday.Hussein Malla/The Associated Press

Ghada Alatrash is Syrian-Canadian and an assistant professor at Alberta University of the Arts in Calgary. Her work on Fadi Azzam’s Huddud’s House was named Best in Fiction Translation for 2024 by Kirkus.

In that epochal moment, as the Syrian opposition forced open the doors of Saydnaya Prison – a site once branded by Amnesty International as a “human slaughterhouse” – Syria’s Bastille fell. A torrent of tears erupted in triumph as Syrians witnessed the collapse of a symbol of the regime’s boundless cruelty; a prison marked by hangings and systematic extermination; a monument to the Assad family’s iron grip on Syria from 1971 until Dec. 8, 2024.

Sitting in my Syrian friend’s home in Calgary, I watched transfixed as the television screen flashed miracles. A deluge of voice messages mixed with weeping tears and hysterical laughter began pouring in from family and friends in Syria and across the diaspora, along with Palestinian friends, all united in a chorus, “Lift your head high, for you are a free Syrian.”

Detainees emerged into light from the depths of hell, bearing with them stories of horror beyond imagination – Syrians, Lebanese, Jordanians, Palestinians, and Iraqis. They emerged like ghostly shadows, as if they had escaped from Dante’s Inferno. They were held in prison without trial, on mere suspicion of their political opinions and beliefs.

Ragheed al-Tatari, whose son came to Canada as a refugee, was one of those freed after 43 years of detention without a trial. Women, too frightened to trust their liberators, drifted out of their cells clutching children born in detention. Scenes of terror were mixed with joy, crying with screaming.

For decades, a cruel lattice of prisons formed what has come to be known as Syria’s “bureaucracy of death.” Families paid fortunes just for news of their loved ones’ survival, and made bribes to officers to stop execution orders.

Reports indicate that people are still trapped in hidden underground cells. According to the BBC, the Damascus Countryside Governorate has called on former soldiers and prison workers via social media to provide rebel forces with the access codes to electronic underground doors, where they say there are “more than 100,000 detainees who can be seen on CCTV monitors.”

These prisons served as effective tools of terror, epitomizing the tyranny of a dictator – a man with cold blue eyes, a degree in ophthalmology, and a British-born wife seduced by couture and vanity. Now, neither his Russian nor Iranian allies, nor Hezbollah’s militias, could save his regime. Today, Bashar al-Assad finds himself a refugee in Russia, facing history’s relentless lesson, as if tyrants never learn from the past.

Today, Syria is free from Mr. al-Assad and his family – a nation that once cried out in peaceful protest for freedom and dignity, only to face the regime’s cruellest torment.

Today, the Syrian dream is realized, 13 years after the start of the revolution. For generations of Syrians, Dec. 8 will mark a true birthday for their dreams.

As for the revolutionaries, some were once children, living in camps, abandoned by the world. Now, with their own hands, they return to reclaim their villages and cities.

Their militant leader, Ahmed al-Sharaa (formerly known by the name Abu Mohammed al-Golani), spoke with CNN. His faction, Hayat Tahrir al-Sham (HTS), was designated a Foreign Terrorist Organization by the United States in 2018. Yet, to the world’s surprise, his interview with CNN carried the air of a national leader.

Christians of Aleppo have come to realize that opposition rebels are safeguarding their rights and properties, their Christmas trees, and knocking on the doors of elderly Christians to deliver bread and medicine.

Scenes of loved ones reunited after years of separation under a brutal regime are deeply moving. The silent longing of millions of refugees in camps across Lebanon, Turkey, Jordan and Iraq is a pain that resonates deeply, a hope weighted with the heaviness of all they have lost.

Damascus, once cloaked in darkness for over half a century by the Assads, now echoes with jubilant cries and ululations, as if the very soul of the nation, long imprisoned, has been set free, its voice rising in a chorus of liberation.

Some raised their glasses of araq (a traditional spirit) in a toast to freedom, while others let loose the songs of Abdul Baset al-Sarout, a goalkeeper turned revolutionary martyr, murdered by the Assad regime in 2019. Today, Mr. al-Sarout’s voice ripples through the air, a fiery echo that warms the hearts of Syrians scarred by cold, hunger, and loss.

As for the future, no matter how uncertain it seems, hope is reborn for a rebuilt Syria. What matters today is that Syria is free at last, its people taking to the streets, dancing and singing.

Follow related authors and topics

Authors and topics you follow will be added to your personal news feed in Following.

Interact with The Globe