What next for Syria? The danger of violence in post-war transitions

Images emerging from Syria over the past week have shown jubilation on the streets, as millions celebrate the end of 24 years of repression under Bashar al-Assad.

It is rare for rebels to manage to tip the scales in their favour and win a war outright after such a long and protracted stalemate. But the obvious next question is: what comes next? Looking to the handful of similar examples, history suggests that new forms of violence could continue to threaten Syria’s political future.

In Libya, an umbrella coalition of rebel forces known as the National Transition Council defeated Muammar Gaddafi’s government in 2011. Meanwhile, in South Sudan, victory against Omar al-Bashir came in the form of a successful referendum on independence that same year.

Looking further back, in Idi Amin’s Uganda, an alliance was brokered by neighbouring Tanzania between two rival rebellions in 1979. Their joint military campaign ended in Amin’s defeat soon after.

The immediate aftermath of rebel victory in each of these cases points to one common lesson. Where a fragmented coalition of armed groups finds itself in a political vacuum, more violence – not less – is probably on the horizon.

Fragile and shifting coalitions

The injustices of repressive regimes often motivate rebellion. They can also provide a common enemy that, especially when sensing a window of opportunity, makes it possible for rival armed groups to put aside their differences and work together towards a common cause.

Subsequently, however, transition periods generate uncertainty over political futures. This can make it difficult for former allies to remain united.

Many Libyan militias allied behind the National Transition Council during its uprising against Muammar Gaddafi. But they soon became violent rivals in competition over political influence in the transitional government being formed in Tripoli.

In a vacuum of authority, these new forms of violence may look like local turf wars. But they are often attempts by faction leaders to position themselves advantageously as political spoils are up for grabs at the national level.

Meanwhile, where dominant factions vie for national power in the presence of many smaller and more localised militias, these weaker factions may be prone to changing allegiances so as to end up on the winning side.

Fighting in Libya throughout 2017 exhibited this kind of opportunistic flip-flopping. Local militias such as the Kiniyat Brigade changed their allegiances between the faction of former prime minister, Khalifa al-Ghawil, and a rival faction based in Tripoli claiming to represent the legitimate government of Libya.

The conflict in South Sudan has long been described as ethnic in nature. The main rival leaders, Salva Kiir and Riek Machar, belonged to the country’s two largest ethnic groups, Dinka and Nuer. But this obscures a more complex and strategic constellation of alliances. Many of the groups that have fought against Kiir have also been ethnic Dinkas and vice versa, with loyalties shifting over time as either leader gains an advantage. Some of the most recent violence has been between forces loyal to Machar and a co-ethnic splinter faction known as Kitgwang, which opposes his leadership.

Numerous reports from international observers and mediators have attested to the difficulty of brokering and maintaining a stable agreement on the terms of transition in these countries due to fluid and shifting coalitions.

Armed groups in Syria have already shown such tendencies. The Military Operations Command, the coalition of Syrian opposition groups that brought down Assad’s regime, exists in name only. The dominant group, Hayat Tahrir al-Sham (HTS), is itself an amalgam of at least four separate militias, while previous coalitions backed by Turkey and the US have coalesced and fragmented over time.

HTS leader Ahmed al-Sharaa has pledged that all rebel factions will “be disbanded and the fighters trained to join the ranks of the defence ministry”. But history suggests that a rival is likely to emerge from one of these blocs to challenge the legitimacy of HTS’s claim to lead the transition. This will introduce a new element of uncertainty for the smaller factions forced to choose a side.

Looking ahead to elections

Even where a stable transitional coalition can be upheld, peace may eventually be threatened by the outcome of a winner-takes-all election.

Violence was avoided in post-Amin Uganda for as long as the two faction leaders who overthrew him held top positions in a transitional power-sharing government. But when elections produced a clear win for Milton Obote in 1980, his rival, Yoweri Museveni, relaunched his rebellion. Uganda’s so-called bush war would continue until 1986, when Museveni’s forces took the capital, Kampala, by force.

Ethiopia’s post-war transition fared slightly better after victory for an allied rebel assault on the authoritarian Derg regime in 1991. Most of Ethiopia’s rebel factions had clear and distinct ethno-territorial bases and, as a result, the new constitution emerging from an inclusive national conference devolved power to ethnic regions in a federal system.

This attempt to create a political stake for former rebels not wholly dependent on national election results may have succeeded had local or regional elections been held first. Ultimately, however, at least two rebellions returned to low-level violence throughout the 1990s, accusing the new government of marginalisation and attempts to undermine their electoral competitiveness.

In any case, devolution appears unlikely in Syria. Aside from Kurdish separatists in the north-east, the country’s many militias have less clear linkages to specific demographic groups and often overlap in their areas of influence. And with HTS now calling for a unified state with no federal regions, the national-level political game will remain high stakes and prone to violent forms of contention.

Chelsea Johnson receives funding from the British Academy.