Lions of Syria
Damascus’ mobilisation of tribes and monarchial ambitions

Sheikh Humeidi Daham al-Jarba, the late chief of the Shammar tribe in Syria, often entertained guests at his madafa with colourful tales from his travels. One anecdote dated back to the mid-2000s when he visited Yemen and found himself in conversation with the then-President, Ali Abdullah Saleh, at a gathering of the country’s political and social elite. The topic at hand was  rather delicate: Saleh was contemplating disarming Yemen’s tribes, many of which had tanks and rocket launchers in their arsenals, and who frequently kidnapped Westerners to strong-arm the government.

Sheikh Humeidi, however, was having none of it. “Mr. President,” he began, “tribes are like lions. The tribes of Yemen are like jungle lions – wild, free, and fierce, thriving in their natural environment. The tribes of Syria and Iraq, on the other hand, are like zoo lions. People come to admire them but they are caged and lacking the vigour they once had. As for the tribes of the Gulf, they’re like circus lions: trained to perform tricks to please the audience.” Humeidi finished: “So, Mr. President, which kind of lion would you prefer to have on your side?”

This question has long preoccupied Middle Eastern rulers, and it centres around two main concerns: social progressiveness and the utility of power. Saudi Arabia’s King Abdulaziz, not socially progressive, had no qualms about maintaining tribal traditions. He subdued the tribes by settling them, marrying into them, and offering their leaders lavish subsidies. Jordan’s King Hussein, though socially progressive and living a Western lifestyle, relied heavily on the East Bank tribes to secure his throne. This dependence granted the tribes a more prominent role in the country’s politics and national identity. Iraq’s Saddam Hussein was socially progressive in the Soviet sense (an advocate of women’s rights and modern dress) and found the tribal system incompatible with his secular and centralised vision of the state. His primary organisational tool was the Ba'ath Party, and he saw little need for the tribes, even banning tribal surnames. After 1991, however, when the Sunni tribes of Tikrit and Anbar helped crush the Shia uprising in the South, his attitude shifted.

Taming the lions
Hafiz Assad, on the other hand, was vehemently and consistently against the tribes, viewing them as backward and a threat to his regime. In Syria’s 1950s democratic heyday, the tribes mustered power through the ballot box, and tribal politicians like Trad al-Mulhim of Homs emerged as influential power-brokers. This would not do in Ba’thist Syria. Early in his reign, Hafiz gave tribal leaders a stark choice: join the Party or remain excluded from political life. Many tribal leaders with connections to Kuwait and Saudi Arabia emigrated, while those that didn’t were relegated to the B-League.

The Assads nevertheless had consistent policies to manage the tribes. Key leaders were co-opted with seats in the People’s Assembly and municipal councils, while others were bought off with perks like smuggling rights, free fuel, and occasional meetings with security chiefs. The tribes’ roles varied by region: in Homs and Hama they were part of the "alliance of minorities" alongside Alawites, Shias, and Ismailis to balance urban Sunni influence; in Deir Ezzor, tribal leaders’ sons were given opportunities in the Ba’th Party and the security services, with several (like Riad Hijab and Nawaf al-Faris) serving in senior roles; in Hassake clans of sedentary farmers from Raqqa were imported to build the Arab Belt; in Daraa, where clans tended to be better educated, many attained high office, including Prime Minister and Vice-President (Mahmoud al-Zo’bi and Faruk al-Sharaa, respectively, the latter a distant relative of Syria’s current president). As an organised sub-national group, however, the tribes were never part of the regime’s core power. They were carefully managed – co-opted, kept on a tight leash, and prevented from exercising true political influence.

Tribal resurgence post-Assad
All of that changed on 8 December 2024. The triumph of Hay'at Tahrir al-Sham (HTS) and its rebel alliance was not only a victory for the opposition but also for the Sunni tribal leaders who had invested in the cause. Every tribe had at least one senior member embedded within the three main factions – regime, opposition, and SDF – in a widely accepted practice of bet-hedging. Today, many tribal leaders find themselves with hundreds, if not thousands, of kin serving in the formal army and security forces. This trend took root in rebel-held northern Syria, where entire tribes displaced by Assad’s war machine joined armed groups en masse. Over time, tribal military commanders emerged, adding their clan-based support to formal military and security roles. Mohammad al-Jasim, also known as Abu Amsha, is  perhaps the most prominent example. While this kind of merger is new for tribes in Syria, it is already familiar to tribes in Jordan, Saudi Arabia and the Gulf.

Indeed, the tribes are part of President Sharaa’s social milieu, as he himself hails from a family of rural notables in Quneitra with connections to the Annaza tribal federation. His ability to mobilise the tribes, most dramatically seen during the coastal massacres and the battle of Suwayda, is striking. Tribesmen who served in the formal army and security forces simply shed their uniforms, donned traditional gear, and joined armed cousins, seamlessly shifting between their state and militia roles, well-placed sources in Damascus confirmed. In the case of Suwayda this resulted from a deliberate decision taken at the highest levels, intended to avoid Israeli airstrikes and create plausible deniability. Also in the Suwayda crisis, tribal leaders delivered rousing oratory on camera about how they were “defending the state”, striving to prove their loyalty and capitalise on the resulting goodwill. July’s faz’a (tribal mobilization call) became a strategic show of strength, directed not only at domestic adversaries – such as the Druze, Kurds, and sceptical urban Sunnis – but also at hostile regional actors. Tribesmen from Lebanon, Jordan, and Saudi Arabia responded to the call with convoys of SUVs, further emphasizing the breadth and reach of Sharaa’s authority over the tribes.

Future kingdom?
Sharaa became President after being acclaimed as such by opposition armed factions at the Victory Conference on 29 January. Sources close to the leadership, however, confirm that Sharaa has ambitions to become King. For this, he would need recognition from a much broader segment of the population – and in this the tribes are uniquely positioned. The tribes claim to account for around 40 per cent of the population. This may not be an exaggeration, given that most Sunni Arab rural communities maintain some form of tribal affiliation, even though, under the Assads, these ties were largely ignored by the regime. In a new system that acknowledges tribal identity and rewards collective loyalty to the state, this could change. Tribal leaders in Syria with close connections to Saudi Arabia, such as Abdulilah al-Mulhim, grandson of Trad al-Mulhim, are championing the idea of Sharaa as king. They assert that a monarchy would be the ideal system, to enable Sunni Arabs to retain power and to assure long-term political stability. After all, they say, it has worked in Saudi Arabia and Jordan, so why not Syria? The British themselves had always envisioned Syria as a constitutional monarchy, with Faisal I serving as king from 1918 to 1920 after being thrust into that role by the tribes of the Great Arab Revolt.

The tribes of Syria have the potential to be much more than mere auxiliaries; they could become a crucial source of legitimacy or an obstacle to statehood. The lions have been uncaged.