Syrian Freedom Is Dangerously Incomplete
Syrians across the country celebrated the fall of the Assad regime in December as a moment of joy and freedom. Next, President Trump made the welcome decision to suspend economic sanctions against our country, a move that will help alleviate years of suffering. But for Syria's many diverse peoples — including mine, the Kurds in the northeast — this remains a time of risk and anxiety.
As a new Syria takes shape, we must ask: What kind of state will it be? Democratic or autocratic? Rights-respecting or repressive? I believe the answer lies in my region, where we have created what we consider to be a model of multiethnic direct democracy.
Syria's new interim Constitution doesn't reflect this diversity. It doesn't fully protect the rights of Syria's minorities or women, and it declares that Islamic law is the source for all national law in a highly centralized state. This is a dangerous development. Syria's history of autocracy, repression and rule by one ethnic group, to the exclusion of others, is a history of failure. We need a new constitutional process to produce a document that guarantees power sharing, safeguards political freedoms, decentralizes governance and allows for full democratic participation, regardless of religion, ethnicity or gender.
This very democratic model was born in the early days of the Syrian revolution, when my region, which we formally call the Democratic Autonomous Administration of North and East Syria, achieved autonomy, in 2012. Also known by its Kurdish name, Rojava, the area makes up nearly one-third of Syria and is home to almost two million Kurds. But like the rest of Syria, it is also home to Arabs, Alawites, Armenians, Druse, Chechens and other ethnic groups. It includes many religions, with Shia and Sunni Muslims, Yazidis and a diverse range of Assyrian, Syriac, Chaldean and other ancient Christian traditions, as well as secularists.
Under our administration, ethnic groups are legally protected, and women are given a leading role in policymaking and society. In a part of the world with a history of autocracy and repression, we believe our system could serve as a model not only for Syria but also for the entire Middle East.
Different communities have a say in our government through a power-sharing arrangement in which every administrative position — from local mayoralties to the executive council of the entire region — is jointly held by a man and a woman of different ethnicities. Citizens meet in assemblies to govern their neighborhoods, villages and towns and send delegates to regional councils. Local committees help shape policy on health, education, defense, sports, women's rights and more.
Our regional Constitution, which we call a social contract, guarantees equal rights for all. The system is not perfect. Despite our efforts at redistributing land once held by the Assad regime, there is still too much economic inequality. We suffer from antiquated infrastructure, serious environmental problems and a dearth of economic investment — all exacerbated by more than 12 years of war. We must work harder to get more people involved at the local level and to carry out our commitment to ecological awareness. But democracy is something that takes practice.
Our commitment to democracy and women's rights gave us the strength to fight the Islamic State, which we have defeated, with American military support, thanks to 14,000 of our young men and women who gave their lives in battle.
What can other countries in the region learn from our system? Arabic was once the only official language in Syria; we teach students in three official languages: Arabic, Kurdish and Syriac. We have an independent, free, robust media that is protected in our social contract. We employ a restorative justice system that includes the Mala Jin (women's houses), where families can work out domestic problems with the advice and help of female elders. We encourage the full expression of ethnic culture, religion and dress. We don't demand that women wear their clothes in a certain way. Women hold half of legislative seats and government jobs and take leadership positions in all institutions — military, political, economic and social.
Our experience provides valuable lessons for Syria's political future. Centralized control, instituted by the French authorities who once dominated Syria, has been a disaster, as it has for so many similarly diverse countries in the Middle East. The postcolonial legacy has failed the Middle East time and time again. It makes much more sense to allow regions to govern themselves according to their own needs and traditions within a unified nation.
We signed an agreement with Damascus in March stating our intention to integrate our institutions and armed forces into the new administration, and the interim president, Ahmed al-Shara, in turn, agreed to the right to representation of all Syrians in the new government, a cease-fire on all Syrian territory and a promise that all displaced Syrians would be able to return to their towns and villages. These commitments are welcome and will contribute to stability in the country.
But the interim Constitution, which Mr. al-Shara signed in March, with elections scheduled to be held in five years, threatens to undermine these good intentions. Largely created by those involved in Mr. al-Shara's former rebel group Hayat Tahrir al-Sham, it allows for the curtailing of civil rights, including religious rights, if they are deemed to infringe on public order. There are inadequate checks and balances on the executive, who is given supreme power to appoint judges and one-third of the legislature.
I am deeply concerned by these policies. Fault lines in the country since Assad's fall are already beginning to show. The terrible violence on Syria's coast in March, in which more than 1,600 civilians were killed, mostly Alawites, and more recent aggression against the Druse community south of Damascus underline the need for a new democratic constitutional process.
The new Syria must, from the outset, include everyone. The Trump administration and U.S. Congress have a historic opportunity to help us build such a government in Syria. It would not only help Syrians but also provide a blueprint for the entire Middle East.
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CNN
37 minutes ago
- CNN
He survived an assassination attempt. Now South Korea's new president has to lead a divided nation and tread cautiously with Trump
At age 14 he was an impoverished factory worker. On Wednesday, he became the leader of one of Asia's most powerful economies, a US ally and cultural juggernaut. But after sweeping to a decisive victory over conservative rival Kim Moon-soo on Tuesday, Lee Jae-myung faces a daunting task. South Korea remains deeply divided, Lee's predecessor having declared martial law in a short-lived power grab in December, leaving many voters anxious about the state of their democracy. Six months of ensuing political turmoil entrenched existing rifts, with protests – both for and against former President Yook Suk Yeol and his People Power Party – filling the streets of the capital Seoul. Choppy international conditions have compounded domestic uncertainty. US President Donald Trump's global tariffs have hit South Korea's trade-reliant economy hard, with no permanent leader at the helm to steer negotiations with Washington. Lee's election – after a revolving door of interim leaders over the past half-year – might finally offer the country some much-needed stability, said Cho Hee-kyoung, a law professor at Hongik University in Seoul. 'We didn't even have someone who could engage with Trump on the tariff war, and for an export-driven economy, that's a serious problem,' Cho said. And, she added, the election – which saw the highest voter turnout since 1997 – represented a stinging public rebuke to the People Power Party. 'For many people, I think this election was about holding those responsible for bringing chaos to the country accountable,' she said. But it remains to be seen whether Lee, 60, will be able to heal the political divides – especially as he comes with his own baggage, caught up in various legal challenges, facing allegations of corruption and abuse of power. It's not clear what will happen to his ongoing criminal trials; sitting presidents are normally immune from prosecution, but there's disagreement on whether that applies to cases that begin before they take office. At his inauguration on Wednesday, however, Lee sought to cast himself as a bringer of unity and a fresh start to the nation of more than 50 million people. 'It is time to replace hatred and confrontation with coexistence, reconciliation, and solidarity – to open an era of national happiness, of dreams and hope,' he said in a speech. 'I will answer the earnest call to build a completely new nation.' Lee's spectacular rise is well documented. Born in the mid-1960s, he was the fifth of seven children in a poor family from Andong, a riverside city southeast of Seoul. His father worked as a market cleaner while his mother was a fee collector at public bathrooms, according to his office and biographies that include excerpts from Lee's own diaries. With civil war-ravaged South Korea in the early throes of a rapid industrialization that would transform it into a manufacturing powerhouse, Lee began working in factories as a teenager – from jewelry plants to refrigerator assembly lines. While working at a factory making baseball gloves, he permanently injured his left arm. In his diary, Lee would write about his envy of students he saw wearing school uniforms and those who had enough to eat. Despite his humble beginnings, he eventually passed his school exams and earned a full scholarship to study law at Chung-Ang University, one of Seoul's top private universities. From there, Lee became a human rights lawyer, eventually entering politics in 2010 as the mayor of Seongnam city, just outside Seoul, representing the liberal Democratic Party. That led to another, more significant, stint from 2018 as governor of Gyeonggi province, the country's most populous, which surrounds the capital. By then, he was eyeing the presidency – and left the governorship to run in the 2022 election, losing to Yoon by less than one percentage point. Lee became a lawmaker after that, surviving an assassination attempt in January 2024 when a man stabbed him in the neck during a public event in the southern city of Busan, in what his party denounced as an 'act of political terror.' Later that year came Yoon's ill-fated power grab. Lee again made headlines as one of the lawmakers who rushed to the legislature and pushed past soldiers to hold an emergency vote to lift martial law. He livestreamed himself jumping a fence to enter the building, in a viral video viewed tens of millions of times. Despite his growing popularity, Lee has been viewed with suspicion by many opponents because of his criminal trials – including over alleged bribery and charges related to a property development scandal. Separately, he was convicted of violating election law by knowingly making a false statement during a debate in the 2022 presidential campaign. The case has been sent to an appeals court. Lee denies all the charges against him. Speaking to CNN in December, he claimed he had been indicted on various charges 'without any evidence or basis,' and that the allegations are politically motivated. Yoon's martial law decree had been in part fueled by his frustration over a months-long political stalemate, with Lee's Democratic Party blocking the president from moving forward with many of his campaign promises and policies. Now, the Democratic Party controls both the parliament and the presidency – which could see 'a return to normal politics,' said Celeste Arrington, Korea Foundation associate professor of political science and international affairs at George Washington University in the US capital. 'It might be easier to push through policies than it had been under impeached President Yoon,' she added. And Lee has a lot to do, right away – including addressing a sluggish economy and getting involved in the US-South Korea trade talks. 'I will immediately activate an emergency economic response task force team to restore people's livelihood and revive the economy,' he said during his inauguration speech on Wednesday. He added that he would 'turn the global economic and security crisis into an opportunity to maximize our national interest,' and strengthen trilateral cooperation with the US and Japan. Arrington added that Lee clearly sees the US-South Korea alliance as the 'backbone' of the country's national security – but he will have to balance that against relations with China. The US rival is also South Korea's largest trading partner. Yoon took a famously hard line on North Korea, and relations have plummeted. In contrast, Lee hails from a political party that has historically taken a more conciliatory approach to South Korea's autocratic neighbor. Lee reiterated the long-standing goal of peace on the Korean Peninsula, vowing to 'respond firmly to North Korea's nuclear threats while also keeping communication channels open.' But above all, Lee emphasized the importance of rebuilding public trust, badly damaged by the martial law crisis – and punishing those responsible. 'I will rebuild everything that was destroyed by the insurrection and create a society that continues to grow and develop,' he said on Wednesday. 'An insurrection that uses the military's power, to seize the people's sovereignty, must never happen again.' CNN's Lauren Kent contributed reporting.
CNN
39 minutes ago
- CNN
He survived an assassination attempt. Now South Korea's new president has to lead a divided nation and tread cautiously with Trump
At age 14 he was an impoverished factory worker. On Wednesday, he became the leader of one of Asia's most powerful economies, a US ally and cultural juggernaut. But after sweeping to a decisive victory over conservative rival Kim Moon-soo on Tuesday, Lee Jae-myung faces a daunting task. South Korea remains deeply divided, Lee's predecessor having declared martial law in a short-lived power grab in December, leaving many voters anxious about the state of their democracy. Six months of ensuing political turmoil entrenched existing rifts, with protests – both for and against former President Yook Suk Yeol and his People Power Party – filling the streets of the capital Seoul. Choppy international conditions have compounded domestic uncertainty. US President Donald Trump's global tariffs have hit South Korea's trade-reliant economy hard, with no permanent leader at the helm to steer negotiations with Washington. Lee's election – after a revolving door of interim leaders over the past half-year – might finally offer the country some much-needed stability, said Cho Hee-kyoung, a law professor at Hongik University in Seoul. 'We didn't even have someone who could engage with Trump on the tariff war, and for an export-driven economy, that's a serious problem,' Cho said. And, she added, the election – which saw the highest voter turnout since 1997 – represented a stinging public rebuke to the People Power Party. 'For many people, I think this election was about holding those responsible for bringing chaos to the country accountable,' she said. But it remains to be seen whether Lee, 60, will be able to heal the political divides – especially as he comes with his own baggage, caught up in various legal challenges, facing allegations of corruption and abuse of power. It's not clear what will happen to his ongoing criminal trials; sitting presidents are normally immune from prosecution, but there's disagreement on whether that applies to cases that begin before they take office. At his inauguration on Wednesday, however, Lee sought to cast himself as a bringer of unity and a fresh start to the nation of more than 50 million people. 'It is time to replace hatred and confrontation with coexistence, reconciliation, and solidarity – to open an era of national happiness, of dreams and hope,' he said in a speech. 'I will answer the earnest call to build a completely new nation.' Lee's spectacular rise is well documented. Born in the mid-1960s, he was the fifth of seven children in a poor family from Andong, a riverside city southeast of Seoul. His father worked as a market cleaner while his mother was a fee collector at public bathrooms, according to his office and biographies that include excerpts from Lee's own diaries. With civil war-ravaged South Korea in the early throes of a rapid industrialization that would transform it into a manufacturing powerhouse, Lee began working in factories as a teenager – from jewelry plants to refrigerator assembly lines. While working at a factory making baseball gloves, he permanently injured his left arm. In his diary, Lee would write about his envy of students he saw wearing school uniforms and those who had enough to eat. Despite his humble beginnings, he eventually passed his school exams and earned a full scholarship to study law at Chung-Ang University, one of Seoul's top private universities. From there, Lee became a human rights lawyer, eventually entering politics in 2010 as the mayor of Seongnam city, just outside Seoul, representing the liberal Democratic Party. That led to another, more significant, stint from 2018 as governor of Gyeonggi province, the country's most populous, which surrounds the capital. By then, he was eyeing the presidency – and left the governorship to run in the 2022 election, losing to Yoon by less than one percentage point. Lee became a lawmaker after that, surviving an assassination attempt in January 2024 when a man stabbed him in the neck during a public event in the southern city of Busan, in what his party denounced as an 'act of political terror.' Later that year came Yoon's ill-fated power grab. Lee again made headlines as one of the lawmakers who rushed to the legislature and pushed past soldiers to hold an emergency vote to lift martial law. He livestreamed himself jumping a fence to enter the building, in a viral video viewed tens of millions of times. Despite his growing popularity, Lee has been viewed with suspicion by many opponents because of his criminal trials – including over alleged bribery and charges related to a property development scandal. Separately, he was convicted of violating election law by knowingly making a false statement during a debate in the 2022 presidential campaign. The case has been sent to an appeals court. Lee denies all the charges against him. Speaking to CNN in December, he claimed he had been indicted on various charges 'without any evidence or basis,' and that the allegations are politically motivated. Yoon's martial law decree had been in part fueled by his frustration over a months-long political stalemate, with Lee's Democratic Party blocking the president from moving forward with many of his campaign promises and policies. Now, the Democratic Party controls both the parliament and the presidency – which could see 'a return to normal politics,' said Celeste Arrington, Korea Foundation associate professor of political science and international affairs at George Washington University in the US capital. 'It might be easier to push through policies than it had been under impeached President Yoon,' she added. And Lee has a lot to do, right away – including addressing a sluggish economy and getting involved in the US-South Korea trade talks. 'I will immediately activate an emergency economic response task force team to restore people's livelihood and revive the economy,' he said during his inauguration speech on Wednesday. He added that he would 'turn the global economic and security crisis into an opportunity to maximize our national interest,' and strengthen trilateral cooperation with the US and Japan. Arrington added that Lee clearly sees the US-South Korea alliance as the 'backbone' of the country's national security – but he will have to balance that against relations with China. The US rival is also South Korea's largest trading partner. Yoon took a famously hard line on North Korea, and relations have plummeted. In contrast, Lee hails from a political party that has historically taken a more conciliatory approach to South Korea's autocratic neighbor. Lee reiterated the long-standing goal of peace on the Korean Peninsula, vowing to 'respond firmly to North Korea's nuclear threats while also keeping communication channels open.' But above all, Lee emphasized the importance of rebuilding public trust, badly damaged by the martial law crisis – and punishing those responsible. 'I will rebuild everything that was destroyed by the insurrection and create a society that continues to grow and develop,' he said on Wednesday. 'An insurrection that uses the military's power, to seize the people's sovereignty, must never happen again.' CNN's Lauren Kent contributed reporting.
Associated Press
2 hours ago
- Associated Press
No kids, excess heat and payment plans. What to know about Hajj 2025
ISLAMABAD, Pakistan (AP) — Muslims from around the world are in the Saudi city of Mecca for the Hajj, one of the Five Pillars of Islam. In the coming days, people will immerse themselves in religious rituals and acts of worship that originated more than 1,400 years ago. They also have to contend with excess heat and other earthly factors, like a ban on children under the age of 12 and a crackdown on unauthorized entry. Here's what to know about this year's Hajj: Beating the heat in the Saudi desert Last year's pilgrims struggled through burning sun and suffocating hot weather, with the mercury hitting 47 degrees Celsius (117 degrees Fahrenheit). More than 1,300 people died. This year, Saudi authorities are advising caution in direct sunlight, telling pilgrims to avoid going out during the day and uncovering their heads, except for rituals, unless necessary. An official safety kit emphasizes the importance of light-colored clothing and umbrellas. It also has details on recognizing and treating the symptoms of dehydration and heat exhaustion. But it's tough to avoid the heat and crowds when the Hajj is outdoors. It's a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity for many, elevating the personal stakes further, and temperatures in Mecca are already 41 degrees Celsius (about 106 Fahrenheit). Although the desert kingdom spends billions of dollars on crowd control and cooling, the volume of pilgrims and climatic conditions make it difficult to guarantee people's safety. A ban on children under 12 at the Hajj Saudi Arabia has banned children under 12 from this year's Hajj — one of the biggest policy changes in recent years. Riyadh reportedly introduced the ban as a precautionary measure to ensure children's safety during the pilgrimage, which could be a dangerous environment for them because of the huge crowds. Children are exempt from doing the Hajj and are not required to fulfill other Islamic obligations, like prayer and fasting, until they reach puberty. But that doesn't stop some parents from wanting to take their children to experience the Hajj and see the holiest site in Islam, the Kaaba, the black, cube-shaped structure that is the focal point for daily prayers. Father of five Talha Ayub, from the Pakistani city of Lahore, said his kids were staying with their grandparents while he and his wife performed the Hajj in a 'more relaxed way.' 'Even if children were allowed, we probably wouldn't have taken them because the weather is extremely harsh this year,' said Ayub, whose children are aged 1 to 13. 'I have mixed feelings about leaving them behind. I'll miss them.' There's no official age breakdown for pilgrims, but most are between 35 and 64. Layaways and lowering the price tag The price of a Hajj ranges from $4,000 to $20,000, depending on the length of stay, level of comfort, and country of departure. Depreciating currencies, high inflation, and tax hikes in Saudi Arabia also have an impact on how much Muslims end up paying. The countries that typically send the most pilgrims are developing nations. Some have trimmed the price of government-backed Hajj programs to make them more affordable. But this step isn't always enough. Farid Ahmed Majumder, secretary general of the Hajj Agencies Association of Bangladesh, said the country was allowed to send some 127,000 pilgrims this year but failed to meet this quota, mainly because of higher costs. Pakistan has reduced the price of the state-run Hajj program. It has also debuted a flexible payment system. Farmer and small business owner Zaheer Ahmad said he didn't have enough money to pay for his Hajj up-front, 1.2 million rupees or about $4,255. He paid in three installments, applying for the Hajj in December with an advance and finishing his payments in February. 'Otherwise, I might not have been able to go for Hajj at all,' he said. In Saudi Arabia, which has also introduced flexible payments, domestic pilgrims pay 20% within 72 hours of booking, another 40% during Ramadan and the final 40% the following month. Managing wait times and overcrowding Although the Hajj is a once-in-a-lifetime obligation, people don't want to wait a lifetime to fulfill it. But the Hajj has limited capacity, countries have set quotas, and there is only one time each year to do it. Patience really is a virtue and everything needs to align: availability, health, and finances. Muslim-majority countries like Indonesia and Malaysia have decades-long waiting lists for the Hajj. Indonesia has 5.4 million people awaiting their turn, with the number increasing each year. While there is nothing to stop people from performing the Hajj more than once, some governments believe this practice deprives others of the opportunity, especially in countries where demand is high. India has a ban on 'repeaters' and excludes applications from anyone who has previously performed the pilgrimage through the national Hajj committee, although there are exceptions from those accompanying certain categories of people like the elderly. With a restricted supply of Hajj spaces, it's inevitable that people will try to find ways to get to the holy city and stay there. In April, to curb unauthorized Hajj pilgrimages and control inbound travel, Saudi Arabia suspended the issue of short-term visas for 14 countries: India, Pakistan, Bangladesh, Egypt, Indonesia, Iraq, Nigeria, Jordan, Algeria, Sudan, Ethiopia, Tunisia, Yemen, and Morocco. People have in the past traveled to Saudi Arabia on short-term visas and entered Mecca without official permission for the Hajj. Authorities said that many of those who died in the heat during last year's Hajj were unregistered and unable to access air-conditioned pilgrim amenities. The Interior Ministry warned in May that a fine of up to 20,000 riyals, or about $5,330, would be imposed on anyone attempting to enter Mecca during the Hajj without the correct visa. ___ Associated Press writers Sheikh Saaliq in New Delhi, Julhas Alam in Dhaka, Bangladesh, and Munir Ahmed in Islamabad contributed to this report. ___ Associated Press religion coverage receives support through the AP's collaboration with The Conversation US, with funding from Lilly Endowment Inc. The AP is solely responsible for this content.
