Today, Syrians everywhere—in Syria and across the world—come together in unity: some to commemorate, some to question what comes next, and some to believe in a brighter tomorrow. Today is Syria’s “Liberation Day”—a day that honors the resilience of those who endured years of struggle and loss, while also shining a light on the possibilities that lie ahead. This past year has brought hope for some and fear for others, but today reflects both the challenges that remain in Syria and the determination of its people to redefine their path forward.

Over the past year, Syria’s transitional government under al-Sharaa has worked urgently to rebuild Syria’s position on the global stage, making notable economic strides that signal momentum and a desire for change and stability. However, many critics argue that the government has focused more on gaining approval abroad than addressing the needs of Syrians within its own borders. Despite these diplomatic and economic efforts, many questions remain unanswered. For ordinary Syrians, daily life continues to be shaped by hardship, scarcity, uncertainty, and the long shadow of years of injustice.

Beyond political and economic concerns, Syria and the new government must ask itself: how can it rebuild a society that upholds dignity, equality, and safety for all citizens? A crucial component of this question is religious freedom, not just as a legal or constitutional principle but as the basis for trust, coexistence, and social solidarity. Research is clear: countries that protect freedom of religion experience stronger human rights, lower corruption, greater civic engagement, and more stable institutions–all conditions that Syria needs for its recovery and reconstruction.

The transitional period under Ahmed al-Sharaa is marked by both hope and complexity. Islam’s formal role in Syria’s governance and constitution raises understandable concerns about how inclusive the system will be for non-Muslims. The constitution guarantees freedom of belief, equality before the law, and protection for all religious communities; however, the effectiveness of these provisions will depend on the development and functioning of Syria’s institutions.

This does not mean the United States should let go of the reins entirely; it must balance Syria’s autonomy with accountability and make religious freedom a priority in its policy. However, religious freedom in Syria cannot simply be a copycat of the Western model, for the idea of strict separation of church and state is a Western concept. Expecting Syria and the rest of the world to replicate this model jeopardizes grassroots efforts towards a path of pluralism. Syria has lived alongside its neighbors for centuries, with diverse backgrounds and beliefs. Pluralism and religious freedom are nothing new; these are not Western concepts, nor have they been imported from abroad. Pluralism and religious freedom have always been part of Syrian culture.

This research has been challenging and at times, deeply emotional. As I have done this research, mass graves from the Assad regime continue to be uncovered, Syria remains in rubble, and division is apparent. A reminder of how overwhelming the truth is, and I feel underqualified.

One of the biggest questions I wrestle with is whether I am even framing Syria correctly. Yes, there are sectarian divisions. There is no denying that there have been real cases of sectarian injustice and extremism. However, that is not the whole picture, and it does Syria a massive injustice to pretend it is. Syria’s crisis is layered: poverty, resource scarcity, the collapse of healthcare, insecurity, displacement, trauma, and decades of injustice, authoritarianism, and war. Reducing it to sectarianism oversimplifies a reality that is far more complex and human than that.

And then there is the way “minorities” get lumped together, as if the Druze, Alawites, Christians, Kurds, and others share one narrative, when they do not. Each group has its own history, fears, hopes, and identity. They deserve reporting that reflects their individual stories, not a catch-all label that erases their differences. When I have spoken with members of different minority communities in Syria, the fear, loss, and sense of helplessness are impossible to ignore. I have often worried that my academic writing cannot fully capture the weight and pain of their experiences. Even if my research cannot fully give justice to the truth of the Syrian individual experience, I am confronted with two undeniable truths: every Syrian has endured suffering, pain, and loss–some more than others—but also every Syrian without question deserves to live, to prosper, to be free, to be safe, and to be treated with dignity.

Syrians have fought—literally and emotionally—for a new future. This moment belongs to them. Religious freedom does not just belong in the halls of power or in the lines of the constitution, but between neighbors, in daily acts of respect, empathy, and shared humanity. After years of manipulation, propaganda, and conflict—all designed to pit Syrians against one another—it is up to the people themselves to bridge the gaps.

This moment belongs to Syria: This day of liberation is for all Syrians. It is theirs to claim, theirs to shape and to forge. There is hope and a dream for a new future.

Author: Jessalyn Wienk