Warnings have multiplied in recent days against allowing political parties to enter Syria’s political arena during the transitional phase. Critics fear that such a step could revive regional and sectarian divisions or usher in premature factionalism that obstructs the task of rebuilding the state. Some of these anxieties are understandable. Yet the prevailing discourse misses a fundamental truth: political pluralism is not a threat to the state; it is one of the essential conditions for constructing it.
When political parties operate under clear laws and independent institutions, they become a disciplined mechanism for absorbing and organising the tensions inherent in society. The alternative is to leave those tensions to erupt in the streets, through violence, or through sectarian rhetoric. The divisions that many fear parties will create already exist within the Syrian social fabric, expressed in local loyalties and inter-communal sensitivities. Party politics offers a way to shift these dynamics from emotional outbursts to structured political engagement.
Transforming diverse identities into political platforms that can be debated within state institutions is a tool of stability, not a catalyst for collapse. Fear of political parties must not evolve into fear of politics itself. The absence of politics is precisely what caused Syrian society to detonate, forcing it to rebel against a monolithic system that denied political life altogether.
The transitional period is, by its nature, delicate. Any political activity that lacks proper foundations can quickly devolve into a struggle for influence. Yet the danger lies not in the existence of parties, but in the absence of rules governing political work. A council operating without a clear party law, a fair electoral system, a free press or an independent constitutional court will inevitably interpret any partisan or personal alignment as an extension of the familiar “cake-sharing” mentality.
Those who see the current “partisan mood” within councils as a return to the atmosphere of sixty years ago are confusing the phenomenon with the context. The problem is not the mood itself, but the absence of a legal structure capable of transforming partisan alignment into programmatic competition rather than personal quotas.
International experience shows that the emergence of parties during transitional phases is not inherently dangerous; it can, in fact, be a constructive component of state-building. In South Africa, parties were encouraged to operate from the outset after apartheid, including those representing distinct ethnic groups. This did not fracture the state; it channelled tensions into a negotiation process that produced a consensual constitution.
In Chile, after the fall of Pinochet, parties immediately returned to public life and formed broad alliances that guided the country towards long-term stability. Spain, emerging from Franco’s dictatorship, allowed parties to operate at once, including nationalist parties in Catalonia and the Basque Country. This was a deliberate strategy to integrate multiple identities into a single constitutional framework. Even in Bosnia and Herzegovina, after a devastating civil war, parties representing the three major national identities became a means of organising competition within state institutions rather than resorting to arms or street mobilisation.
These examples demonstrate that political pluralism, when governed by clear rules, can serve as an instrument of stability rather than a threat to it.
Invoking Iraq, Lebanon or Libya as evidence of the dangers of pluralism in foundational stages does not withstand comparative scrutiny. These countries faltered not because parties existed, but because the central state was weak, external interventions were extensive, electoral systems were sectarian or tribal, and judicial and regulatory institutions were fragile. In such contexts, political parties reflected the crisis; they did not create it. Conversely, Syria’s experience under the Assads—marked by the absence of pluralism, the monopolisation of public life by a single party and the criminalisation of political activity—turned society into a sealed chamber that exploded at the first real test.
When politics is prohibited, sectarianism and regionalism seep in through far more dangerous back channels. When competition is suppressed, violence emerges. When the public sphere is closed, an explosion becomes inevitable.
From this perspective, establishing a future phase grounded in political life—one that includes parties and unions—is not a luxury. It is a necessity for building the state. Pluralism is not the fruit of a completed state; it is one of the tools required to complete it. The state is not built first and then opened to politics. The doors of politics must be opened so that the state can be built.
The transitional period demands great responsibility from elites, but it also demands the courage to open the political sphere in any form. Closing it is what destroyed Syria in the past. Building a solid political foundation is therefore not a task to be postponed, but a prerequisite for creating a modern state capable of embracing its pluralism rather than fearing it. At this juncture, Syria can cultivate a political life that prepares, beyond the transition, for an organised and conscious societal engagement with politics.
This article was translated and edited by The Syrian Observer. The Syrian Observer has not verified the content of this story. Responsibility for the information and views set out in this article lies entirely with the author.
