The Fall of Syria and the Consequences of Western Interventionism

The sudden fall of the Syrian government in December 2024 marked one of the most significant geopolitical upheavals in the Middle East in recent decades. For over half a century, Baathist Syria, led by the Assad family, represented—despite its contradictions—a linchpin of the "Axis of Resistance" alongside Iran and Hezbollah. But its very structural fragility—an authoritarian regime, not unlike many other Western-backed governments in the region, but in this case opposed because it was outside the Atlantic orbit—made Damascus the weak link in the alliance. Worn down by an interminable civil war, a crippling economic crisis, and growing dependence on external allies, Syria had long been exposed to collapse.

Tehran was well aware of the limitations of Bashar al-Assad's government, but viewed the alternative—jihadist groups like al-Qaeda/Al-Nusra Front or ISIS, indirectly supported by the West and regional powers—as infinitely worse for the region. The tragic paradox has come true: the seizure of Damascus by foreign Islamist militias has imposed a brutal ideology on a heterogeneous Syrian population that largely neither shares it nor recognizes its legitimacy. Assad has been replaced by a plague of armed fundamentalist groups, backed by external powers and ready to carry out their sponsors' diktats at the expense of the Syrians.

In practice, Syria—once a secular, multi-confessional state—is now controlled by extremist factions seeking to transform it into a sectarian emirate, governed by a rigid interpretation of Sharia law and devoid of pluralism. Significantly, many of these fighters aren't even Syrian: among the ranks of the attackers in Damascus were elements from Turkmenistan, the Caucasus, and other regions, a sign of a transnational jihadism imposed from above on a diverse Syrian society (moderate Sunnis, Alawites, Christians, Druze, Kurds) in the name of an ideology the majority of Syrians disagree with. This outcome—the fall of Assad and the establishment in Damascus of a government dominated by Hayat Tahrir al-Sham (HTS) and its ilk—has been hailed by the rebels as a "new history" for the entire region. But for Damascus's allies, it is a strategic catastrophe: it has swept away a bastion of Russian and Iranian influence in the Arab world, limiting Tehran's ability to supply Hezbollah in Lebanon and forcing Moscow to lose its Mediterranean outpost.

In return, the West now finds itself having to reckon with an Islamist victory it itself helped shape: for years, Western governments and media portrayed the Syrian war as a struggle between "pro-democracy rebels" and the brutal regime, downplaying the jihadist component; today, however, they must recognize that the outcome was not democracy, but the rise of victorious Salafi militias. In other words, the "victory" in Syria carries a bitter aftertaste for its external sponsors: it achieved its goal of eliminating Assad, yes, but by handing Syria over to extremist forces whose fanaticism risks destabilizing the entire region.

Propaganda and Reality: From the Myth of the "Democratic Rebels" to Torture Videos

For over a decade, much of the Arab media aligned with the Gulf monarchies (and to some extent Western media as well) has presented a distorted image of the Syrian war, presenting factions of jihadist cutthroats as heroic "rebels" fighting for freedom. This framing has persistently ignored or downplayed the ideological nature of many insurgents. Even Jabhat al-Nusra, al-Qaeda's Syrian affiliate, was often described with the euphemism of "rebel group" in mainstream news, without clarifying its Salafist and sectarian agenda. Likewise, militias like Jaysh al-Islam—created and funded by Saudi Arabia—were rarely identified for what they were: groups that explicitly rejected democracy and pluralism, aspiring to transform Syria (a country composed of dozens of religious and ethnic minorities) into a homogeneous Sunni theocratic state.

The reality on the ground, documented by independent organizations, was far different from the media fable: armed Salafist groups spread terror in the areas they controlled, carrying out summary executions, caged civilians as human shields, and imposed medieval taxes on their subjugated populations. However, these "rebel" atrocities received far less attention in the international media than those of the regime. Today, however, with the rise of HTS in Damascus and the uncontrolled proliferation of jihadist militants, the truth is emerging online: social media is awash with horrifying videos showing the executions of prisoners accused of loyalty to Assad, sectarian mockery of "heretical" religious symbols, and brutal torture inflicted on civilians. This is the true face of the "emirate" established in Syria, and it is shaking Arab and Muslim public opinion, shattering the romantic veneer that certain pro-Gulf press had painted. Similar to what happened in Gaza (where images of destruction and civilian casualties overturned many official narratives), in the Syrian case too, the rawness of these viral videos is forcing many to reconsider their positions. In practice, the same Arab public that once sympathized with the "rebels" on satellite TV is now—confronted with filmed evidence of their brutality—beginning to realize that they were deceived by propaganda.

The media boomerang effect is powerful: those summary executions filmed by HTS militants in Alawite and Christian communities, and disseminated like trophies, are generating widespread horror and disapproval. For example, in March 2025, a wave of sectarian violence on the Syrian coast (in Latakia, an Alawite-majority area) saw HTS fighters proudly film their actions: over a thousand civilians massacred, women and elderly people beaten and killed, all "justified" as punishment against Assad loyalists. The same images of jihadists sneering as they executed innocents sparked a wave of popular outrage in the Middle East. Ironically, channels like Al Jazeera Arabic and Al Arabiya—which had celebrated those fighters for years—found themselves forced to report these reports critically, fearing complete loss of credibility. In short, the Manichean narrative of "democratic rebels" against the "dictator" has collapsed: it is now clear to everyone that in Syria the vacuum left by Assad has been filled by obscurantist forces that have nothing to do with freedom, and this is opening the eyes of many – just as is happening with regard to Gaza and the Palestinian cause.

Turkey's Ambiguous Role: Erdogan and the Jihadist Monster That Threatens to Escape Him

A crucial player in this Syrian tragedy is Turkey, the powerful neighbor that for years has facilitated the transit of weapons, money, and fighters across its borders to benefit the anti-Assad insurgency. From the early stages of the Syrian conflict (2011-2012), Ankara adopted an unscrupulous policy of supporting Sunni armed groups against Damascus: not only did the "rebel" army of the Free Syrian Army find refuge and safe rear areas on Turkish soil, but according to various sources, the Turkish intelligence agency (MIT) itself actively participated in supplying arsenals to the most radical Islamist groups. A Reuters investigation revealed in court that between 2013 and 2014, the MIT delivered shipments of weapons to Syrian Islamist factions, while the Turkish opposition denounced the establishment of jihadist training camps on Turkish soil. In 2014, the arrest of MIT trucks bound for Syria, loaded with weapons hidden under medicines, caused a sensation: the few customs officials who attempted to stop them were later arrested and convicted for daring to "reveal state secrets." In short, Ankara played with fire: in an attempt to overthrow Assad, President Erdogan tolerated (if not encouraged) the passage through its territory of thousands of jihadist fighters from all over, including aspiring European militants headed to swell the ranks of ISIS and Al-Nusra. For years, the Turkish-Syrian border has been the "highway of jihad," well known to Western security analysts. Added to this is the lucrative oil trade: ISIS, at its peak, smuggled tankers of Syrian crude oil to Turkey every day; Western intelligence agencies and even former Iraqi ministers have accused Ankara of having “turned a blind eye” (if not worse) to this trade, which filled the coffers of the Caliphate.

In short, Erdogan—blinded by hatred for Assad and the neo-Ottoman dream of Sunni hegemony—has created a monster, or at least helped fuel it. Today, with Assad deposed thanks to that jihadist wave, Turkey finds itself faced with a chaotic situation that it risks inheriting entirely. Erdogan has indeed achieved the fall of Damascus's enemy—a goal Ankara had been pursuing since 2011—but this Pyrrhic victory brings with it enormous headaches for Turkey itself: first, it will have to confront a devastated and fragmented Syria, where the new Islamist government (affiliated with the Muslim Brotherhood and tolerated by the Turks) is hated by large segments of the population and all minorities. Kurds, Alawites, Christians, and secularists in Syria view the HTS regime as an illegitimate invader; Many of them have taken refuge in the Kurdish cantons or in exile and will not easily accept being governed by Erdogan's protégés.

This poses a huge legitimacy problem for Turkey: any transitional Syrian administration linked to HTS/Ankara will be perceived as a puppet, incapable of truly stabilizing the country or achieving unanimous recognition. Erdogan, therefore, holds in his hands a Syria "liberated" from Assad but in ruins: a collapsed economy, institutions in disarray, and millions of displaced persons. This volatile situation threatens to spill over: Turkey already hosts approximately 4 million Syrian refugees and could now see more influx if the internal situation in Syria deteriorates further. What's more, by fueling the jihad machine for years, Ankara has helped create an ecosystem of armed Sunni radical groups that could one day turn their weapons elsewhere. Already, the presence of thousands of foreign fighters in Syria represents a ticking time bomb for regional security. The same Gulf monarchies that financed certain anti-Assad brigades are now beginning to fear the return home of these radicalized veterans. We've seen it before: the mujahideen trained to fight in Afghanistan in the 1980s ended up destabilizing Algeria and Saudi Arabia itself in the 1990s. Similarly, jihadists supported in Syria could infiltrate Jordan, Egypt (in the Sinai), or Turkey itself, deeming the very governments that once supported them as "apostates." Erdogan himself is not immune: sectors of Sunni extremism consider him an opportunist and could strike within the country. In short, the Turkish president—in pursuing Assad's overthrow—has unleashed forces he no longer fully controls. He must manage a post-war Syria lacking stability and governability, while also guarding against possible jihadist resurgences that threaten Turkey and the "friendly states" of the Gulf. Furthermore, on the broader geopolitical level, Ankara risks a dangerous confrontation with Israel on Syrian soil.

Paradoxically, Assad's defeat has opened a new line of tension between Turkey and Israel: Tel Aviv is alarmed by the emergence of a Syria oriented toward Turkey and dominated by radical Sunnis. A recent Israeli report warned that a "pro-Turkish, Islamist Sunni Syria" could pose an even greater threat to Israel than Syria, allied with Iran. It's no coincidence that, as soon as Assad fell, Israel immediately took security measures: it sent troops into the adjacent buffer zone on the Golan Heights and intensified air strikes to destroy Syrian weapons depots before they fell into the hands of extremists. For his part, Erdogan, at least publicly, has maintained a relatively cautious tone toward Israel since the fall of Damascus—avoiding direct provocations—but mutual distrust is skyrocketing. In fact, a local cold war is emerging in post-Assad Syria between Ankara and Tel Aviv: Turkey is suspicious of Israel's contacts with the Syrian Kurds and the Druze minorities in the south (Jerusalem has already hinted it will support these groups to counteract HTS); Israel, for its part, strikes down any Turkish attempt to establish air or missile bases on Syrian soil (the Israeli preemptive bombing of T4 airport, after sources indicated the possible arrival of Turkish air defenses, is a prime example). In short, Erdogan now finds himself walking a tightrope: he won the battle against Assad, but he inherited a chaos that could engulf Turkey as well, and he must maneuver carefully to avoid clashing head-on with either the jihadists he nurtured or powers like Israel (or Russia, which still has some presence in Syria). The jihadist monster born in Syria is a source of instability that risks biting its own creator. Yemen: The Unexpected Front That Puts Israel in Crisis.

In the Middle East's seething landscape, another player in the so-called "Axis of Resistance" is emerging forcefully: the Houthis of Yemen (the Ansar Allah movement, of Zaidi Shiite inspiration). Professor Mohammad Marandi, an Iranian analyst, has called the Houthis' resilience one of the strategic surprises of the last decade. These Yemeni fighters have withstood ten years of a devastating war waged by Saudi Arabia and its allies (with full Western logistical and diplomatic support for Riyadh)—a conflict often described as "genocidal" due to the enormous toll in civilian lives and destruction it has caused. Since 2015, Yemen has been subjected to indiscriminate bombing and an economic blockade, resulting in the world's worst humanitarian crisis, according to the UN. Yet, despite the enormous disparity in resources, the Houthi resistance remained undefeated: rather than collapsing, Ansar Allah developed increasingly sophisticated military capabilities (ballistic missiles, armed drones, anti-ship defenses) and maintained control of vast swathes of the country, including the capital, Sana'a. The Houthis thus defeated Saudi aggression on a political and strategic level: after years of bloody stalemate, Riyadh has now been forced into dialogue and intermittent truces, while the Houthis remain firmly in power in northern Yemen. Marandi emphasizes how their victorious resistance represented a turning point: an extremely poor population, abandoned by the world, managed to thwart the military campaign of a coalition supported by the United States, Europe, and Israel (the latter, behind the scenes, provided intelligence and technological support to the Saudis). Now, in the broader context of the Arab-Israeli conflict, the Yemeni Houthis have opened a new front against Israel. In a show of solidarity with Gaza during the 2023-2024 war, the Houthis began launching ballistic missiles and long-range drones toward Israeli territory—an unprecedented feat. On July 19, 2024, a kamikaze drone launched from Yemen flew for over 10 hours and reached Tel Aviv, evading defenses and hitting a building near Ben Gurion Airport, killing at least one person and wounding several others. This unexpected attack pierced Israel's much-vaunted defensive "dome," demonstrating a shocking vulnerability: for the first time, Israel was struck from the south (from the direction of the Red Sea/Mediterranean Sea) by a weapon coming from 2,000 kilometers away.

Suddenly, the seemingly impossible happened: poor, tiny Yemen managed to dent Israel's image of strategic invincibility. A military analyst commented that this event "surprised the Israelis, exposing flaws in their warning and interception systems and forcing Tel Aviv to revise its air defense plans." More Houthi drones and missiles were launched in the following weeks: some were shot down in flight (including by the Americans, as in the case of a missile intercepted over the Red Sea), others fell in open areas in the Negev. In any case, the message is clear: the myth of Israel's inaccessibility has fallen. This powerfully undermines the image of deterrence that Israel has always enjoyed. If a Yemeni rebel group can strike Tel Aviv, it means that no point on Israel's geography is truly beyond reach in the new Middle Eastern war scenario. This has profound implications for domestic morale and international perception: once-fearful countries now see that Israel can be reached on its own soil. Furthermore, there is an economic-strategic aspect that should not be underestimated: Israel does not have the resources to sustain a direct conflict on multiple fronts for long, including one thousands of kilometers away like Yemen. Saudi Arabia, despite all its oil wealth, has spent astronomical sums (estimated at tens of billions of dollars a year) bombing Yemen, without achieving decisive results. Israel, on the other hand, has an advanced but small and highly interconnected economy: the war in Gaza and tensions in the West Bank and Lebanon are already burdening it with significant military and economic costs. A prolonged war effort against the Houthis—for example, having to constantly patrol the Red Sea, maintain ships and drones on alert over long distances, and intensify missile interception—would be extremely costly for Israel. Unlike Riyadh, Tel Aviv cannot print petrodollars or count on a population of tens of millions: it is limited in human resources and budget, and above all, it cannot afford to divert too many forces from the main front (Gaza/Lebanon). The result is that the Houthis, with minimal investment (a few home-made drones and missiles supplied by Iran), are forcing Israel to disperse its attention and spend tens of millions on defense. Israel is discovering how vulnerable it is to a distant asymmetric enemy. Marandi points out that, unlike Saudi Arabia, Tel Aviv lacks the strategic depth or economic strength to wage another protracted direct war. In other words, Israel can perhaps respond with punitive strikes (for example, it has already bombed some Houthi installations in Hodeidah, Yemen), but it certainly cannot launch a remote invasion or occupation, much less completely stop enemy launches. The lesson from Yemen is stark: the asymmetric wars of attrition that the US-Gulf axis has unleashed in the region could backfire on Israel itself, undermining its painstakingly constructed aura of military invulnerability.

The US Strategy: Destabilize to Favor Israel

An anti-interventionist reading of recent events leads one to conclude that many of the wars waged in the Middle East over the past twenty years have not actually benefited either the United States or Europe, but have almost exclusively served Israel's strategic interests. The conflicts in Syria, Iraq, and Libya—all promoted or supported by the West under the guise of "exporting democracy"—have produced disastrous scenarios for regional stability and for Western interests themselves, while the only actor to benefit has been Israel.

Consider the 2003 Iraq war: it eliminated Saddam Hussein (Israel's historic enemy), but at the cost of destabilizing Iraq for decades, strengthening Iranian influence in Baghdad, and giving rise to al-Qaeda and then ISIS within it. A colossal fiasco for Washington, which spent trillions and lost thousands of soldiers to find itself in a chaotic, pro-Iranian Iraq—but meanwhile, Israel had seen a hostile regime removed and a large Arab army shattered.

The same goes for Libya: NATO overthrew Gaddafi in 2011, removing a pan-Arabist leader and friend of the Palestinians, but this plunged the country into tribal chaos, paved the way for massive waves of migration to Europe, and provided a haven for jihadist militias in the Sahel. Europeans gained nothing but problems (instability at their doorstep and refugees), while Israel quietly reveled in the disappearance of another potentially threatening Arab government. The case of Syria is even more striking. Since the beginning of the Syrian crisis, many American and allied decisions appear to have been made more in the interests of Israel than in clear Western national interest. The unstated goal was always to weaken the anti-Israeli "Axis of Resistance": striking Assad's Syria meant striking Iran and Hezbollah, facilitating Israeli hegemony. This strategic line prevailed even when it went against Western economic logic or diplomatic coherence. For example, the United States still maintains hundreds of soldiers in eastern Syria (the oil-rich region), ostensibly to "fight ISIS" and "guard the oil"—but in reality, ISIS has been defeated, and that Syrian oil certainly doesn't cover the costs of a constant military presence. So what is the real reason, in 2025, why Washington maintains bases and imposes vicious sanctions on a devastated country like Syria? Mainly to contain Iran and protect Israel.

By occupying key areas of eastern Syria, the Americans are preventing the re-establishment of an Iran-Iraq-Syria-Lebanon land corridor (useful for Hezbollah's supplies) and are putting pressure on Tehran. There is no other tangible benefit: indeed, this presence is a constant burden for US coffers, with no economic return. Even mainstream officials and analysts admit that US policy in Syria is driven more by aversion to Iran and its allies than by direct American interests. It's no coincidence that Senator Lindsey Graham, rejoicing over Assad's fall, called it "a huge loss for Russia and Iran, which is a good thing"—a sign that, for the hawks in Washington, the important thing was hurting Moscow and Tehran (and pleasing Israel), certainly not the fate of the Syrians or any benefit to the US. Netanyahu himself claimed the collapse of the Syrian regime as a result of Israel's "victories" over Iran and Hezbollah, confirming that Tel Aviv views the last 13 years of Syrian war as part of a broader struggle aimed at dismantling the anti-Israel front. In short, the American strategy—from the Bush administration, through Obama, to Trump and Biden—has seemed to focus on one principle: selectively destabilizing the Middle East to ensure Israel's long-term security. Even at the cost of creating power vacuums and waves of extremism. A cynical plan, one that has not strengthened Washington's global position; on the contrary. Europe, a staunch ally, has suffered negative repercussions; the West's moral reputation has plummeted; and the Middle East is far from being pacified. But from the point of view of those who hoped to reshape the region in favor of Israel, some stages were "necessary": Iraq devastated, Syria in pieces, Libya divided.

As a Western diplomat commented to the Washington Post: "Without Syria, the entire Axis of Resistance could collapse." Finally, a paradox must be emphasized: in pursuing this strategy, the United States has often acted against its own immediate economic interests. For example, sanctions and the occupation of northeast Syria prevent Syria from exploiting oil and wheat (thus harming Assad), but have in turn eliminated modest quantities of crude oil from the market that could have controlled global prices. Likewise, Damascus' isolation has pushed it further into the orbit of Russia and Iran, leaving China room to mediate on the ground. Yet Washington persists, because its primary objective remains to keep Iran in check and protect Israel's security at all costs, even at the cost of sacrificing economic opportunities or regional stability. As critical commentators point out, there is no other rational explanation for certain policies: the American occupation of Syria "makes no economic sense" and is a high cost motivated solely by Iranian containment and Israeli protection (particularly to prevent the re-establishment of the Iran-Lebanon land bridge). In short, we are faced with imposed wars—in Syria, Iraq, Libya—that have devastated those nations without benefiting Westerners, but have aligned the Middle Eastern map somewhat more closely with Tel Aviv's strategic desires.

Iran Today: Strong, Self-Sufficient, and in Balance of Deterrence

In 2011, many in Western circles predicted that, with Syria's fall, it would be Iran's turn to collapse under the combined pressure of sanctions, international isolation, and proxy wars. Yet, more than a decade later, Iran has not only not fallen, but now stands as a stronger and more self-sufficient regional power than ever. Unlike Baathist Syria, which depended on external support, the Islamic Republic has developed significant indigenous technological and military capabilities over the past decade. Under siege by sanctions, Tehran has invested decisively in its domestic defense industry: it has produced a vast array of ballistic and cruise missiles, attack and reconnaissance drones, radar and electronic warfare systems—components that today fuel a robust balance of deterrence against external enemies. For example, just as Israel threatened retaliation against Iran over the Houthi's involvement, Tehran unveiled a new solid-fuel ballistic missile, the "Qassem Basir," in 2025, with a range of 1,200 km. The implicit message: Iran has weapons capable of hitting bases and targets well beyond its borders, and continues to expand its arsenal despite restrictions. This qualitative growth of Iranian forces—which already possess missiles capable of reaching the Mediterranean coast and drones deployed in Russia—means Iran is by no means the "next Syria." A direct attack against the Islamic Republic would be met with a powerful and coordinated response: Iran has already demonstrated its ability to effectively strike American targets (as occurred in January 2020, when Iranian missiles struck the Ayn al-Asad base in Iraq in response to the killing of General Soleimani, wounding dozens of US soldiers). And recently, Tehran unambiguously warned that if the United States or Israel were to attack it, it would respond by striking their forces, bases, and interests wherever they are located—including, explicitly, Israeli territory. Iran's Defense Minister declared: "If this war is started by the United States or the Zionist regime, Iran will target their interests, bases, and forces—wherever they are and whenever it deems necessary." These words echo the red lines already drawn by Supreme Leader Khamenei: Iran will not attack first, but in the event of an attack, it will not hesitate to launch missiles at Tel Aviv and Haifa. In other words, mutual deterrence is now the key factor: everyone knows that a war against Iran would be immensely more destructive than one against Syria. Another crucial element of Iran's renewed strength is Tehran's ability to break out of diplomatic isolation by building new international alliances and partnerships.

On the regional front, Iran has normalized relations with Saudi Arabia (through a China-brokered agreement in 2023) and is forging closer ties with formerly hostile Gulf states. On the Eurasian front, Tehran has fully joined the major emerging blocs: it became a member of the Shanghai Cooperation Organization (SCO), a political-security alliance led by China and Russia, in 2023; and on January 1, 2024, it officially joined the BRICS (along with economies such as China, India, Russia, Brazil, South Africa, and now Saudi Arabia, Egypt, the UAE, and others). These achievements mark a momentous shift: despite Western sanctions and isolationist campaigns, Iran has become connected to the new power centers of the multipolar world. Being a BRICS member means access to an economic forum representing 40% of the world's population and pushing for new financial mechanisms alternative to the dollar—a prospect Tehran is actively cultivating to reduce its vulnerability to sanctions. The adhesion to SCO, for its part, brings Iran into a security cooperation with giants such as Russia, China and India, providing legitimacy and political shield in the face of US pressure. In short, the Iran of 2025 is no longer isolated: it entertains intense exchanges with Russia and China (just think of the supply of drones to the Russian army in Ukrainian, reciprocated by economic assistance and perhaps Chinese advanced arms systems), and enjoys the implicit support of most of the southern South in its cause. This has increased its weight and strategic resilience. The West can no longer "cut" Iran easily without sanctioning half of the globe, and the Rotorica Zionisto-American who paints Tehran as an international pariah plays now empty when Iran sits at the Brics tables and Ten next to Beijing and Moscow. As an analyst observed, the process of admission of Iran in the Brics and in the Sco testifies to the failure of the western efforts to isolate him: "The invitation to Tehran in the Brics highlights the erosion of the attempts of the West to isolate Iran". This makes an "Syrian" scenario for Iran unlikely, because any external aggression would meet not only the firm Iranian reaction, but also strong diplomatic reactions (and perhaps indirect military) by Russia and China. Ultimately, Iran is today in a balance of deterrence with its opponents: it does not directly attack the US or Israeli forces, but built the skills to do it and has clarified it publicly. His Proxies in the region (Hezbollah, Iraqi militias, Houthi) complete this cleansing shield, acting from possible multiple fronts in the event of conflict. It is thanks to this force posture that, so far, Israel - albeit in a state of war open to Gaza - has avoided actively involving Iran in the clash, aware that it would mean a catastrophic leap in escalation.