The fear of reckoning continues in Assad’s Alawite heartland

Noor stands shivering in the cold light of the courtyard in the afternoon, not because of the cold, but because of fear.

Clad in his thick winter coat, he has come to appeal to the men of Hayat Tahrir al-Sham (HTS), the new de-facto rulers of Syria, and the new rule in the city.

She begins to cry as she explains that three days earlier, just before nine o’clock in the evening, armed men had come in a black van to her house in the upper part of the city of Latakia. Together with her children and her husband, an army officer, she was forced to go out into the street in her pajamas. The leader of the armed men then moved his family to his home.

Noor – which is not his real name – is an Alawite, a small sect from which the Assad family, and most of the former regime’s political and military officials, come. The Alawites, an offshoot of Shia Islam, make up about 10 percent of Syria’s population, which is mostly Sunni. Latakia, on Syria’s northwest Mediterranean coast is their base.

As in other cities, dozens of rebel groups rushed into the power vacuum left after Assad’s forces left their positions. The regime has exploited sectarian divisions to maintain its grip on power, and now the Sunni Islamist HTS has pledged to respect all religions in Syria. But the Alawite people of Latakia are afraid.

Some people have not even left their homes since the regime change because they are worried that they will have to pay hard due to the support of the old regime.

Noor shows CCTV footage from his house to Abu Ayoub, 34, HTS’s general security chief. In the film, a group of bearded fighters, some wearing baseball caps and others in military fatigues, are shown at his door.

They are not HTS, he says, but another group, rebels in the northern city of Aleppo.

“They broke the door. There were 10 soldiers at our door and another 16 were waiting on the street with three cars,” Noor told Abu Ayoub. Most of his men are from Idlib and Aleppo, where HTS and allied rebels were based before launching the offensive that toppled Assad three weeks ago. They stood exhausted, holding their guns and listening intently as he explained how the family’s belongings had been dumped in the street.

HTS was once linked to al-Qaeda and is still considered a terrorist organization in many Western countries, although the UK and the US say they have been in contact with the group. In just a few weeks, it went from being an enemy of the state to the law of the land. Abu Ayoub and his men adjusted to the change in roles from rebels to police.

Noor is one of the many complainants who came to their security station with complaints. The base, which was the city’s military intelligence headquarters, was perhaps the most feared place in Latakia. Now it’s a common sight, with broken radios and equipment scattered around the yard. Sad photos of Bashar al-Assad lie in the dust.

A man joins the line of those who complain. He has a black eye, broken ribs, his shirt is torn and bloody. He says men from Idlib broke into his apartment.

“Some of them were civilians, others wearing military uniforms and hiding their faces,” he said. “They beat my daughter and pointed weapons at my son’s head, they stole money, they stole gold.”

All that is called here is a show of force, especially with the many armed groups in the city. With the man’s son guiding them, the HTS security forces drive through one of the poorest neighborhoods, through back roads, past scrapyards and middens.

Armed police took up positions along the road and at the entrance to the apartment. They brought the two suspects back to the station for questioning.

But they don’t have time to clear their weapons when there is another complaint, a dispute over gas bottles that leaves another man beaten.

He says three men pulled him with guns.

Another race in cars towards a bustling commercial and residential area. When the police dragged the suspect down the street – his face still covered in blood from a previous fight – local women came to their balconies and shouted “Shabiha! Shabiha!”. They accused the suspect of being a member of the black army, mostly made up of Alawite men, who are doing dirty work for the Assad regime.

Since quickly conquering all of Syria, the Islamist HTS has pledged to maintain peace and protect all of the country’s minorities. And every day Abu Ayoub must fulfill that vow.

“Some who sneak into the rebellion, some who destroy the country, and some people with a weak mind take advantage of this situation in the recently liberated areas,” he said.

Abu Ayoub admits that the situation in the city was “very bad” but he still pays attention to Noor. “We are here now, we were not there when the army left, we were in Damascus when we first arrived. They are criminals, we will drive them out of your home. We will return your things. You heard my voice.” he said. After that he orders his men to get into their trucks and sirens go straight to the apartment.

Latakia is a liberated city. Last Friday, tens of thousands of people from all sects, gathered in the streets to celebrate the fall of the Assad regime. In the town square, they sat on a pedestal where a statue of Hafez al-Assad, Bashar’s father – who ruled for 29 years before his death in 2000 – once stood, and happily waved the flag of a free Syria.

The message that day was unity, one Syria, without sectarian divisions. But after half a century of brutal rule by a government that stoked sectarian hatred and warned that Alawites would be killed en masse if it ever lost power, it is a change to say the least.

On Saturday, three HTS were killed, and 14 were injured outside the city, in what they said was a conflict with a gang. HTS, trying to remain calm, says there was no sectarian element in the attack.

On the way to Noor’s apartment, a convoy of HTS vehicles drives through the streets and passers-by cheer them on and flash the peace sign.

The new Syrian flag, with its blue stripe instead of the red stripe, and three red stars instead of two green, is common on storefronts and hangs from balconies. But in Alawite areas, people watched in silence as the convoy moved. There are a few new flags in evidence.

Azam al-Ali, 28, an HTS security officer from Deir al-Sour in eastern Syria sits in the front seat. He says that after so much pressure, it will take time for people to trust the authority again.

“Most of the oppressed who come with complaints come from two groups, Sunni and Alawite. We don’t discriminate. But the extreme poverty left by this regime has caused this great chaos,” he tells me as part of the journey. .

And he notes that the Alawites, some of whom were among the poorest in Syria, also suffered under the Assad regime.

We arrive at Noor’s apartment and armed HTS men rush up the stairs.

The woman behind the door refuses to open it, but after some negotiation the door opens, and she and her family are ordered to leave. Noor goes in to get clothes and books for her daughter who is studying for exams. Weapons and ammunition of the rebels were taken.

“When I went to HTS today I was scared,” said Noor. “Their appearance was frightening and terrifying. However, in truth, they were very beautiful.”

But he will not return to the house. The nightmare is over in Syria, but for the Alawites, another one has begun, he says.

Carrying her belongings, Noor says she no longer feels safe in her home.

“It’s impossible for me to live here again. I have hope, but not in the near future. I dare not.”