"Accountability is more important than punishment"

Two men climb onto a statue lying in ruins.
A toppled statue of former Syrian President Hafiz al-Assad (1970–2000) near Damascus. (Photo: picture alliance / Anadolu | E. Erturk)

Can there be justice after the horrors Syria has endured? Sociologist Mohammed Bamyeh sees signs that the country's new leadership wants to confront the past, but warns against the dangers of selective justice.

Interview by Morgane Llanque

Professor Bamyeh, when we speak about the future of Syria, we often emphasise the role of transitional justice, a somewhat abstract term. How would you describe this concept?

It's geared toward creating a common narrative in society about what happened after a period of conflict. It's not necessarily about criminal justice or punishment, although that can be part of it. It's more about accounting, truth, and clearing the record. Accountability, in theory, is supposed to help create a more stable post-conflict society.

The concept emerged with the Nuremberg Trials in Germany after World War II. What mistakes did we make back then that we can learn from now?

Nuremberg was problematic. It was the justice of the victor over the vanquished. This can be justified in some cases, but look at Japan: the U.S. held trials for Japanese war crimes, but no one talked about the fact that the U.S. dropped two nuclear bombs on civilians. That kind of selective justice is why we moved away from the victor's model and tried to build a more neutral approach.

In Syria, the current narrative focuses on Assad’s crimes, not those of other actors. We see again the model of the victor and the vanquished. 

Exactly. In March 2025, a massacre of Alawites was committed on the Syrian coast. Afterwards, an investigative commission was set up, which presented a report this week. That is a good sign, but the commission did not publish the list of suspected perpetrators, it just handed it over to the president. Nevertheless, it is clear that groups allied with the government have also committed violations of the law.

Transitional justice can come from two sources: the state and civil society—from the victims, their families, activists. In long civil wars, all sides commit crimes. So the question becomes: is one form of violence more justifiable than the other?

A portrait of Professor Mohammed Bamyeh. (Photo: Private)
Soziologe

Mohammed Bamyeh is a professor of sociology at the University of Pittsburgh. He is an expert on Arab resistance movements, anarchy and Islam.  He is currently an Einstein Visiting Fellow at the Free University of Berlin.

In May 2025, Syria announced the establishment of two national commissions for transitional justice. Is this a real chance of dialogue or just a symbolic gesture?

The initiative is good. After such a destructive war, when emotions and desire for revenge are running high, it matters that the chosen path is transitional justice rather than mass punishment. But we don't know whether it will actually work. You need witnesses, documents, a trustworthy justice system. But at least there's a declared intention, and that matters at this point. 

Look at Tunisia. After the 2011 revolution, they had a transitional justice process. President Marzouki later said it didn't work well as there was no real accountability, no clear apologies. Part of the problem was that much of the old regime retained its position within the bureaucracy. In a sense, the revolution partially failed because the old regime was never fully removed.

Another Arab country where that was the case is Lebanon. More than 30 years after its civil war, it has neither a national memorial nor an official truth-telling process. What lessons should Syria learn from that?

Lebanon is a good example of what happens when you apply a politics of silence. After 15 years of civil war, they didn't punish anyone. In fact, many war criminals ended up in government. The idea was: only those with guns can ensure peace, so we won't punish them. As a result, there is zero accountability. People still can't agree on a shared history—the school curriculum ends at independence in 1943. That's a system based on amnesia. And yet, daily life continues, people intermarry and do business across sectarian lines. Society adapts from below. But politically, the system is still shaped by those who led the civil war. It may take the passing of a generation to create a new consensus. Until then, peace remains fragile. Another example of this is Northern Ireland. There's a formal settlement, but no real reckoning. As a result, two communities remain separate to this day. 

Because new generations can inherit old resentments when they remain unaddressed.

Exactly. If people don't have a shared narrative, resentments continue. Even peace between countries can be cold. Egypt and Jordan have peace treaties with Israel, but it's peace at the governmental level. The populations still feel hostile. In Germany, after WWII, it was victor's justice. But eventually a shared narrative emerged, and everyone blamed fascism. That allowed for reconciliation. In Israel-Palestine, Israel-Egypt etc., we don't have that. I talk to Israelis who say: "We'll keep our narrative, they keep theirs." I don't think that's possible. Especially now, I'm pessimistic when it comes to that conflict. In Syria, we are at the beginning of this process so we have to wait and see.

But do you think that civil society is really being included in Syria at this point?

From what I hear, in Damascus today people feel they can speak freely. That's new. For 50 years, people couldn't open their mouths. Civil society is growing—often through the diaspora. While a lot of the documents that are important were destroyed in the last couple of days of the Assad regime and a lot of the evidence was lost, the diaspora stepped in. Syrians in Berlin, for instance, have been collecting material, organising, even returning to Syria to talk to the new president.

What role do the religious groups and minorities in Syria play in the process?

When a bomb attack was carried out on a Christian church in June, the government publicly condemned the attack and immediately launched an investigation. This is, of course, in its own interest. 

In July, after the fighting in Suwayda, Al-Sharaa also spoke publicly about the fact that all Syrians are equal. He must demonstrate that he is willing to protect minorities; otherwise his government will lose international backing and support within its own country. This is why the violence between Druze and Sunni groups in Suwayda is so dangerous: it could encourage the division of the country along ethnic and religious lines. This is particularly true because government troops, or at least allied groups, were also involved in the massacres of Druze civilians. Another dangerous factor contributing to the escalation is Israel's involvement in this conflict, as its current government is in favour of the division of Syria.

Bashar al-Assad is hiding in Russia. How can society heal without bringing him to justice?

He may be irrelevant now. You can try someone in absentia. That would be as much justice as is possible in this international system. Many Nazis, for example, also escaped justice. But society can still rebuild if people feel that the system is finally a just one.

The problem is, how can you achieve this feeling when your government has not been elected democratically?

Good point. I wrote in my analysis of the Arab revolutions that a majority rule is never a good idea. Why? Because if you have a large popular revolution where, let's say, most people participated or supported it, the 49 percent is not going to allow the 51 percent to rule them, because the 49 percent also did the revolution. So we need a system that is based on the sense that the system we have represents everyone. 

Was there an Arab country that achieved that after the Arab Spring?

From the first few years of the post-revolution in Tunisia for example, the political parties that haggled together the constitution and formed governments, they represented about 75 percent of the population. So that allowed the Tunisian experiment to last for 10 years, not forever, but still. There were other factors, but it was a lot more stable than, say, Egypt, where it lasted only two years. 

That's why transitional justice may not be the priority right now for the Syrian government, even though it is listed as one of the things we need to do. You have a destroyed country that has to be rebuilt. You need development, you need reconstruction, you need a constitution. Otherwise, no stability will be achieved.

What about the cultural aspect of memory politics? Have there been any initiatives in Syria yet to commemorate the past—monuments, museums?

The Assad-era statues have been torn down. After the regime change, the first public display was of missing persons—many people hung up posters of their disappeared loved ones in city squares. That's the beginning of a different kind of memory culture—personal, not monumental. 

Will the statues of Assad be replaced by statues of the current government? Or do you think we will see memorials more like in Germany, which focus on the suffering of the victims?

Similar to Germany, powerful sculptures have been made to show how war affected ordinary people in Iraq. I prefer that over statues of self-acclaimed heroes. But erasing statues of dictators can be risky. In the U.S., there was a debate about tearing down Confederate statues. My view is: don't erase them, but surround them with context. Let people see the ugly history. 

 

This text will also appear shortly in a joint edition of Qantara and Kulturaustausch magazine. Find more stories, interviews and analyses in our Syria focus section.

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