The New Umayyads
Syria’s leaders is turning nostalgia into strategy

Almost everyone who knows Syria’s transitional president, Ahmad Sharaa, agrees on one point: he has long been obsessed by the notion of creating a Sunni entity (kayan sunni). 

This notion is not new. In Iraq Sunnis have long called for such an entity in the form of a federal region as a way of escaping the grip of the Shia-led government in Baghdad. Sharaa appropriated this concept while in Idlib, stating in a televised meeting with Salvation Government ministers in July 2022 that the goal of the revolution was no longer just to end tyranny and oppression but “to create a Sunni entity.” Unlike Iraq, Syria has a clear Sunni majority, and, in light of perceived historic oppression of Sunnis by the Alawite-dominated Assad regimes, Sharaa’s obsession with turning Syria into a bastion of Sunni power is not without popular support. 

There is one principal problem: the 25 per cent of Syria that is not Sunni (or Arab). Alawites, Kurds, Druze, Christians, Turkmans, Circassians and Ismailis would be unlikely to accept being bit-players in a state whose identity, strategic posture, and socio-economic interests ran counter to theirs. A solution, from Sharaa’s perspective, could be a form of soft federalism – a loosely decentralised arrangement that accommodated minority demands while allowing the Sunni core to assert political and ideological dominance.

Umayyadism
While official talk of the kayan sunni remains muted due to its politically charged connotations, a more palatable alternative has been offered to the Syrian public: “Umayyadism.” Promoted by Sharaa’s close advisers and amplified by loyal social media influencers, this nostalgic concept draws on the legacy of the early Islamic Umayyad caliphate as a vision of national revival, prosperity, and restored grandeur. 

During its 89-year reign, the Umayyad dynasty ruled an empire stretching from North Africa to the Caucasus and Central Asia, with Damascus as its imperial capital. It later established itself in Spain where it ruled from Cordoba for 275 years. A worldly and pragmatic dynasty, the Umayyads adapted and refined Byzantine models of political administration and were generally tolerant of Jews and Christians. But the symbolism runs deeper: the Umayyads were historic adversaries of the Shia. Their second caliph was responsible for the killing of the Prophet’s grandson, Hussein, and their policies heavily discriminated against Persians. In resurrecting the Umayyads, Sharaa’s circle invokes not only imperial grandeur but also a pointed reminder of Sunni supremacy over Persia and Shia Islam. 

Pro-government media personality Musa al-Omar (685,000 followers on X) posted on his socials on 19 February a video of Sharaa riding a horse to a song whose opening line was: “The Umayyads are of golden lineage / their name sent fear in Persian kings / books cannot praise them enough.” 

When Sharaa visited King Abdullah II in Jordan on 26 February, “The Umayyads meet the Hashemites” was the main tag line of HTS-run social media accounts. At the transitional government’s inaugural ceremony on 29 March, the culture minister (and poet) Mohammed Yassin Saleh ended his speech with these lines that he composed especially for the occasion:

We have abstained from joys for ages
And broken our fast with the dish of dignity
So record, O time of victory, record
Damascus is ours until the Day of Judgment. 

Sharaa is not unique in invoking the legacy of the Umayyads. Hafiz Assad was said to be an admirer of Muawiya bin Abu Sufyan – the dynasty’s founder – and the secular Syrian Social Nationalist Party (SSNP) regards him as a Syrian hero. In the hands of Sunni Islamists, however, Umayyadism takes on a more chauvinistic association. Critics argue that it projects a fusion of Salafist and Arab nationalist narratives which, while reinforcing Sunni group solidarity (asabiya), simultaneously deepen sectarian divides and further hinder the already tenuous path toward national reconciliation. 

Critics have also begun to see in Umayyadism a by-word for the kayan sunni project. Sharaa may have calculated that his best chance at holding power in the short to medium term is to dominate a smaller, Sunni-majority territory rather than governing a unified but pluralistic Syria requiring power-sharing concessions to minorities. Since (as it was under the Umayyads) power-sharing and democracy are anathema, establishing a Sunni region stretching from Damascus to Homs, Hama, Idlib, and parts of Deir Ezzor that he would rule as a modern-day emir would be far more appealing. The non-Sunni regions of Syria could enjoy a form of soft federalism until such time as they could be re-absorbed (or most likely re-conquered) by Damascus. This would be a result not so much of limited ambition but of a pragmatic accommodation with local and geopolitical realities.  

Spheres of influence 
Although the civil war has largely wound down, the conflict over Syria’s future is far from settled. Regional and international powers remain deeply invested in preserving their spheres of influence. The United States and Israel, for instance, are intent on maintaining the Kurdish-led Syrian Democratic Forces’ control over the resource-rich northeast. In the southwest, the Druze community harbours autonomous ambitions backed by Israel, while on the coast, the Alawite population looks increasingly to Russia for protection. Meanwhile, Turkey – a strong supporter of the Sharaa government – has its sights set on Aleppo, home to the majority of Syria’s Turkmen population.

Sharaa is under no illusions. He cannot hope to satisfy the competing interests of all these actors and still govern a unified Syria without contest. His approach, therefore, has been one of less for more. He has chosen to consolidate his power base among Sunni Arabs by deploying Umayyadism as an ideological weapon and by positioning himself as their indispensable Lord Protector. The brutal suppression of the coastal revolt in March, though widely condemned abroad, boosted his standing among many Sunni constituencies. At the same time, he has allowed political bargaining and decentralised arrangements to take shape, indicating that he would tolerate a patchwork future for Syria if it helps preserve his own central authority.

This pragmatic strategy is most visible in the northeast. Sharaa appears relatively indifferent to fully reintegrating the Kurdish-held territories into the central state. His 10 March agreement with SDF commander Mazloum Abdi was framed as a major political win for Damascus, but in reality, it marked a significant breakthrough for the Kurds. It was the first time the Syrian state had officially acknowledged Kurdish cultural and administrative rights – an implicit green light for continued Kurdish autonomy. Though the agreement stipulates eventual integration of the SDF into the national army, this is likely to be a slow, negotiated process. In the meantime, the Autonomous Administration continues to function with de facto independence.

Aleppo presents another example of calculated ambiguity. The city suffers from chronic neglect in public services and infrastructure. Popular frustration is mounting, with some residents calling for alternatives to the current HTS governance. The evident prioritisation of Damascus over Aleppo suggests that Sharaa may not see the northern city as a core component of his kayan sunni. Instead, he may be reserving Aleppo as a strategic bargaining chip in his dealings with Turkey, potentially trading influence there for Ankara’s tacit acceptance of his uncontested rule elsewhere.

Sharaa’s subdued reaction to Israeli strikes and incursions suggests that he may see the south of Syria as dispensable – at least for the time being. His laissez-faire attitude to local warlords like Ahmad al-Awda in Daraa, or Fahim Issa and Saif Bulad in the north, suggests a strategy of security decentralisation. Rather than unifying the fragmented Syrian armed factions, Damascus seems comfortable with multiple centres of semi-independent military power, perhaps setting a precedent that ultimately justifies a similar arrangement in Kurdish-populated regions in the northeast and the in Druze-majority Suweida in the southwest – effectively sanctioning soft federalism. 

Useful nostalgia
If this new Umayyad vision holds, Syria’s immediate to mid-term future may not lie in reunification, but in a patchwork of decentralised entities tethered to a centralised Sunni-led authority in Damascus. Such a model offers Sharaa the best of both worlds: leadership over the historic heartland of Syria, with enough ideological coherence to galvanise significant popular support; and with sufficient flexibility to avoid the currently impossible task of stitching together a country fractured by sectarianism, warlordism, and foreign meddling. The long-term viability of this arrangement is, however, questionable. The more he leans into Umayyadism to define his rule, the more he risks alienating the very communities whose cooperation is essential for national stability.

For now, however, the strategy appears to be holding. Western capitals, focused elsewhere, show little appetite for further regime change, while regional actors seem content with Iran having been evicted from Syria and a spheres of influence approach that protects their respective bottom lines. In this climate, Sharaa's selective centralism – wrapped in the language of revivalist nostalgia – may prove shrewd. But the danger lies in mistaking tactical success for strategic vision. A governing ideology that draws legitimacy from early middle age empire building ultimately may prove brittle when confronted with the pluralistic demands of 21st-century governance. 

For Syria, the question remains whether the long-term future will be built through democratic accommodation or incremental conquest. If Sharaa’s record is any indication, the latter seems the more probable path. His preference for calibrated force, ideological mobilisation, strategic ambiguity, and the long game suggests a leader more inclined to expand authority piece by piece than to share it.