The Druze Divide

The collapse of Assad’s regime has thrown Syria’s delicate ethnic balance into turmoil, with the Druze once again caught in the crossfire.

The fall of Bashar al-Assad last year ended more than half a century of Alawite dominance in Syria. Yet peace has since proved elusive. In recent weeks, the southern province of Sweida has been engulfed in some of the worst communal violence since the Islamic-led government took power. At least 37 people have been killed in clashes between the Druze - members of a small, secretive religious minority - and Sunni Bedouin tribes following a spate of tit-for-tat kidnappings and armed ambushes. Over 100 have been injured. As the new authorities scramble to restore order, the events in Sweida reveal just how fragile post-Assad Syria remains, and how the fate of minorities like the Druze may shape its future.

The Druze are no strangers to political turbulence. Emerging in the 11th century as an offshoot of Ismaili Shiism, they have long maintained a tight-knit, secretive identity, with theological doctrines inaccessible to outsiders and a strong sense of communal autonomy. Though they make up less than 3 percent of Syria’s population, their geographic concentration in the rugged highlands of Sweida has enabled them to preserve a distinctive social and military structure.

Historically, the Druze have played a careful game of pragmatism by aligning with central regimes when convenient, yet always keeping one foot outside the state’s reach. That strategy reached its apogee under Bashar al-Assad. During Syria’s long civil war, the Druze largely refrained from joining the armed opposition, choosing instead to tacitly back the regime in exchange for security and limited autonomy. Assad, an Alawite himself - a sect closely aligned with Shiism - relied on such minority alliances to buttress his rule against a largely Sunni uprising.

In Sweida, this meant that government forces rarely intervened in local affairs. Druze militias had maintained checkpoints and enforced order. But the arrangement rested on Assad’s capacity to mediate between communities and to keep hardline Sunni groups at bay. With his fall, that balance has evaporated.

The current violence was sparked by a checkpoint set up by a Bedouin tribe, where a young Druze man was reportedly robbed and assaulted. This led to a wave of retaliatory kidnappings and armed confrontations. In April and May, skirmishes between Druze fighters and the new security forces had already left dozens dead.

The Islamic-led government, formed after the Islamist rebel group Hayat Tahrir al-Sham (HTS) stormed Damascus last year, is attempting to project control. But its legitimacy remains contested, particularly among minority groups who fear that the new Sunni-dominated order may prove no more inclusive than the one it replaced. HTS, once a pariah on Western terrorism lists, has been cautiously rehabilitated with Donald Trump recently removing it from its list of foreign terrorist organisations.

These moves suggest a realpolitik-driven recalibration in Western policy. But on the ground, minorities remain vulnerable.

Beyond the Druze, other minority communities are facing similar threats. Hundreds of Alawites have reportedly been killed in recent months, and even Christian churches in Damascus have been attacked.

Syria’s past offers few reassuring precedents. In 1925, the Great Syrian Revolt, largely led by the Druze against French colonial rule, saw the community emerge as both a symbol of national resistance and a target of brutal suppression. During the Lebanese civil war (1975–1990), Druze militias played pivotal roles in sectarian battles, carving out autonomous zones and sometimes turning against former allies. In Israel, the Druze have often been treated as ‘loyal Arabs,’ serving in the military but also resisting policies that marginalize Palestinians. This history underscores a fundamental truth: the Druze survive by adapting, but their loyalties are not immutable.

Today, the stakes are existential. Without the backing of a strong central state, the Druze face growing hostility from Sunni tribes emboldened by the new order. Unless the government in Damascus can offer real guarantees of protection and pluralism, the sectarian patchwork of southern Syria could unravel further.