The past few days have witnessed violence by Sunni gunmen (some of whom are undoubtedly affiliated with forces of the new Syrian government) targeting members of the Druze community primarily in the Damascus suburbs of Jaramana and Ashrafiya Sahnaya, both of which are known for their large Druze populations. What is remarkable is the attempt to explain this transparently sectarian violence in scandalously apologetic terms, attributing it to ‘sectarianisation’ under the Assad regime or issues such as suburban planning. In the words of one German commentator, Tobias Schneider: ‘Any transition, reform, or accountability will effectively look like communal retribution.’
Explanations along these lines ignore the root of this entire affair: namely, an audio clip attacking Islam and the Prophet Muhammad circulated on Syrian social media networks and sparked outrage.
The clip was originally attributed to a Druze individual from al-Suwayda’- namely, one Marwan Kiwan. As it happens, I have known Kiwan for many years, and he was opposed to the regime and consistently supportive of the concept of the Syrian revolution, with his desired outcome being the realisation of a democratic, secular state. I do remember in the days before the fall of the Assad regime, he wrote and shared posts critical of Islam, the Prophet Muhammad, and the Arab conquests of the Middle East and North Africa. Marwan identifies as Druze and has a beard and garb that one may associate with religious Druze, but he also made clear to me in our conversation he sees himself as insani (i.e. identifying just as a humanitarian person). Marwan, of course, is an example of the complexity of Druze identity: while many do identify themselves as Muslims (e.g. the most senior Druze religious leaders in Syria describe themselves as representing the ‘Muslim Monotheist Druze sect’), others do not.
Although Marwan has denied being responsible for the clip that was attributed to him and various Druze leaders and armed factions made clear that they reject blasphemy against the Prophet Muhammad, it was too late. The circulation of the clip led to calls for mobilisation to ‘defend the Prophet Muhammad’s honour’, and accompanying those calls were sentiments directed against the broader Druze community. Some of those sentiments reflect more recent developments, such as seeing the Druze as ‘separatist’ because of Druze rejection of having security in their areas managed by non-Druze security personnel from outside their areas. Moreover, the Druze community in Syria has been recently tied to Israel and its incursion into Syrian territory since the fall of the Assad regime.
However, other sentiments clearly reflect deeper and older hostility and prejudices: e.g. the belief that the Druze are ‘infidels’ (whether ‘original disbelievers’ or ‘apostates’ from Islam), and the belief that the Druze hate Islam and Muslims. In turn, the Sunni gunmen who mobilised towards Jaramana did so because these areas are disconnected from the larger contiguous Druze territories in al-Suwayda’ and Jabal al-Shaykh, and because they probably saw opportunity to take revenge for a security incident in Jaramana in March 2025. In turn, this mobilisation prompted armed Druze mobilisation to defend the community against any attack.
I suspect that some of the commentary that is trying to downplay the clear chain of cause-and-effect going back to an incident of blasphemy is the result of cognitive egocentrism and historical myopia. Yet I remember very clearly, for example, the outrage that circulated on Syrian social media in 2020 in relation to blasphemy against France in Islam and President Macron’s defence of blasphemy as freedom of speech, with accounts promoting the slogan ‘Illa Rasul Allah’ (‘Except the Messenger of God’): i.e. that attacking the Prophet Muhammad is a red line. More recently, a prominent publishing house in Syria (Dar Ninawa) rejected publishing my translation and study of the Mozarabic Chronicle/Chronicle of 754 (indispensable as the first surviving source on the Muslim conquest of Spain) because of what the publisher perceived to be the author’s negative attitudes towards Islam. Another publishing house in Syria, whose owner is an Alawite and has a more secular outlook, thankfully did publish the translation and study, as the owner (and by extension the Ministry of Information under the Assad regime, which had reviewed a copy of the book prior to publication) could understand that translating and studying a work that contains negative attitudes towards Islam do not mean endorsing those positions. But suppose I had endorsed the chronicle as important for illustrating the supposed barbarity and evil of Islam- I have no doubt that no publishing house in Syria would have gone anywhere near the book and that the Ministry of Information under the Assad regime would have rejected its publication. There would also undoubtedly have been a very serious risk of violence if word of publication of such a work inside Syria had circulated on Syrian social media.
To be sure, the taboo against attacking the Prophet and Islam is not unique to Syria. It is a broader issue in the Islamic world. The simple fact is that many Muslims do believe it is acceptable to use violence against and kill people for perceived blasphemy, and when the blasphemy comes from those seen as non-Muslims, the blasphemy is seen as a reason to engage in sectarian violence. Consider, for instance, how perceived blasphemy against Islam often leads to attacks on the Christian community in Pakistan.
However, other sentiments clearly reflect deeper and older hostility and prejudices: e.g. the belief that the Druze are ‘infidels,’ and the belief that the Druze hate Islam and Muslims.
As for attitudes towards Druze in particular, it should be remembered that the isolated Druze community in Idlib province was subjected to a forced conversion policy by Hay’at Tahrir al-Sham’s predecessor Jabhat al-Nusra, and while efforts have been made and are being made to address grievances regarding confiscation of houses and land belonging to Druze people from the region who presently live in exile, the Islamisation policy remains in place. For example, in one of the Druze villages of the area that I visited not too long ago, outward practice of Sunni Islam is reflected in the presence of mosques and the practice of the five daily prayers and fasting in Ramadan. Further, I remember that when I translated and published Saint Eulogius of Cordoba’s polemic in defence of the ‘martyrs’ of Cordoba who were executed in the ninth century CE for blasphemy and/or ‘apostasy,’ one user on social media presumed I had translated it out of hostility to Islam as a supposedly ‘hateful Druze’ who thought himself ‘enlightened’ as opposed to Muslims. I do not know whether that user was based in Syria, but the point is that these negative perceptions and attitudes towards Druze clearly exist among segments of Sunni Muslim populations, and they cannot just be explained away as a result of the Assad regime’s policies.
I should be clear that in these circumstances, people should not be cheering escalation and killing of people on either side. What is needed right now is de-escalation, and the meetings being held between officials in the new Syrian government and Druze leaders in a bid to calm tensions are to be welcomed. Nor does the sectarian violence somehow mean that keeping the Assad regime in power was the solution all along, or that the concept of the revolution was illegitimate. Remember, after all, that Marwan Kiwan was long against the Assad regime, whatever his attitudes towards Islam. However, as with the discussions surrounding ‘apostasy’ from Islam and punishment for it, there needs to be recognition of a broader problem in the Islamic world and global Muslim community regarding freedom of thought and expression. Muslims should answer criticism of Islam through reasoned refutation, debate and discussion. There should be no need to resort to violence and intimidation of any kind against any individual or community.