The Cult of Sharaa the Redeemed

President Ahmad al-Sharaa began his career in Syria as a rumour made flesh. The leader of Jabhat Al-Nusra remained in the shadows while his forces staged spectacular attacks, finally stepping into the world’s public eye in 2021 when he agreed to be the subject of American journalist Martin Smith’s documentary ‘The Jihadist’. In it, Sharaa drove Smith through his fiefdom in Idlib and addressed the million-dollar question: why should anyone trust him? In his case, it was literally a ten-million-dollar question – the size of the bounty Washington had placed on his head. Yet, even then, the United States had already decided not to pursue him. As US envoy to Syria James Jeffrey confirmed at the time, Washington saw Sharaa as a useful asset: someone who could keep a lid on Idlib and provide information on Islamic State. It was no coincidence that Sharaa agreed to cooperate with Smith’s documentary at a moment when Western powers were reconciling themselves to his rule in northwest Syria. With the global image of jihadism dominated by the barbarity of Islamic State, his own image needed reshaping.

By then, several think tanks and Track II organisations had well-established contacts with Sharaa, amplifying his message of pragmatism and moderation. In return they gained access to HTS and the microcosm of Idlib. This soft-power campaign, combined with the discreet relationships Western and regional intelligence agencies had built with his organisation over the years, proved crucial in November 2024, when Sharaa led the offensive that toppled the Assad regime. The joy among Syrians at Assad’s fall was so overwhelming that few stopped to question what understandings had been reached with external backers beforehand, and at what price. Almost overnight, Sharaa was recast as a liberator and hero. Again he spoke — now as a statesman — and his public messaging was eagerly absorbed, not just by war-weary Syrians but also by Western politicians, researchers and journalists.

The fascination with Sharaa runs deeper than the calculation that he is the least bad option. It also goes beyond the euphoric wave of relief that accompanied Assad’s overthrow. More than anything, it reflects what people want to see in him — a fascination that governments and advocacy networks campaigning for his leadership have leveraged relentlessly. That fascination deserves scrutiny, because it often shapes reporting and policy more than facts do. It is this aura around Sharaa that has earned him “the benefit of the doubt”: the belief among Western governments, analysts and commentators that - despite the signs - he deserves a chance to rebuild Syria, and Western political and material support to do so.

Sharaa’s messaging in the aftermath of Assad’s fall was carefully prepared and skilfully delivered. He said everything the West wanted to hear: that Syria was entering a new chapter of stability, that it was re-orienting towards the West, that he was open to all sects and ethnicities. He painted a picture of a new Syria that would be inclusive and peaceful, respectful of women’s rights and at peace with its neighbours. Given the heavy internationalisation of the Syrian conflict and Sharaa’s dependence on foreign backers, Syria could hardly avoid being entangled in regional and international rivalries. But the carrot of peace with Israel, an end to the refugee crisis, and a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to drive Iran and Russia from the Levant proved too tempting to resist. Sharaa was masterful in presenting himself as the agile revolutionary, in a striking contrast to the professional “suit politicians” of the West: as a man of action who walked the walk but who has now “seen the light” and embraces the protocols of diplomacy.

This made him an ideal projection surface for a deeply-rooted Western cultural fascination for purification and redemption: a former Islamic State and al-Qaeda leader who had set aside fatigues and turbans, trimmed his beard and donned a suit. In the Western imagination, Sharaa had experienced a literal “Road to Damascus” moment, like that of Saul of Tarsus — the Pharisee who, after approving the stoning of early Christians, encountered the risen Jesus Christ on the road to Damascus and became Paul the Apostle. Stories of such transformation run deep in Western culture, from medieval morality plays to Les Misérables, Harry Potter, and Star Wars. In this sense, Sharaa taps into the West’s enduring, and often destructive, belief in its power to redeem others — a belief that inspired crusades and colonialism alike. This egotistical belief was badly shaken by the War on Terror and the US invasion of Iraq and Afghanistan, but has now got a shot in the arm by Sharaa’s victory (and the weakening of Russia and Iran in Syria.) In many ways, Sharaa now represents for the West a long-sought resolution of the psycho-cultural crisis posed by the failure of Western policy in the Middle East over the past two decades: proof that Arab Muslims once dismissed as irredeemable fanatics can embrace Western values and norms and express gratitude for Western tutelage.

Conversely, for those in the post-colonial ideological camp, Sharaa offers another projection surface. He appears to vindicate their long-held view that the Global South should be liberated from within, and that the “terrorist” label was always an instrument of Western power designed to discredit ideological foes. 

Sharaa’s September talk with former CIA director David Petraeus at the sidelines of the UN General Assembly neatly captured this strange courtship between Western power and its onetime nemesis. The spark in Petraeus’s eyes could hardly be explained solely by the generous fee he is presumed to have received. He approached Sharaa like a celebrity, telling him that he was a fan. As in previous encounters, Sharaa found himself listening to a Western man — in this case a four-star general who oversaw the occupation of Iraq following the illegal US-led invasion that killed hundreds of thousands of civilians — making light of the fact that they were now sitting together, as if the war had been a bad joke. Sharaa smiled through the superficially charming but deeply condescending treatment, playing along to secure the international recognition he badly needs. 

Many Western observers praise Sharaa’s ability to adapt as the quintessential mark of the “pragmatist”. They overlook the danger inherent in that label: taken to its extreme, pragmatism strips away conviction until power becomes the only end, and the means to acquire and protect it may know no bounds. Sharaa himself dislikes being called a pragmatist for precisely that reason. In Arabic, the term bragmati (there is no direct translation for the term or indeed the concept) clearly implies someone unguided by values. Sharaa, however, does have values — some of which the West may not like. One stands out above all: karama — dignity — for himself, and for Sunni Arabs. He has often said that his yearning for dignity shaped his youth and, after witnessing the Second Intifada, drove him to fight the Americans in Iraq.

The pursuit of dignity has long driven men to take up arms — as the Syrian revolution itself attests. Yet dignity remains elusive. Western governments have abetted a genocide in Gaza, Israel occupies fresh Syrian territory with little censure, and anti-migrant sentiment across Europe disproportionately targets Sunni Arabs. Figures such as Trump’s Syria envoy Tom Barrack still indulge in condescending rhetoric and advance patronising policies. In this climate, the yearning for dignity that once fuelled resistance has, for some, hardened into a quest for hard power and absolute command as the only guarantees of survival in a regional order still designed to humiliate and control.

The West may roll out red carpets for Sharaa now, but this will last only for as long as he is seen to be in its camp. It would be naïve to assume that he truly is. Sharaa is less a convert than a seasoned tactician: a man who has learned to mirror Western expectations while quietly pursuing his own agenda. His rhetoric of pragmatism and reform is designed to flatter Western cultural vanity; and he appears to understand that the price of Western approval is to become a kind of political mascot — a symbol of civilisation’s triumph over barbarism. That is a role he will be prepared to play for a limited time only. It is hardly surprising, then, that within ٍhis inner circle he continues to speak of the need to build a large and powerful army and warns of a long struggle ahead. 

The West would do well to abandon its sentimental projections — this “cult of Sharaa the Redeemed” — and be sober about dealing with a wily general who wants to be a regional strongman. Perhaps, quietly and belatedly, the West has already begun to do just that.