“Homs is free.”
The text message came through at 7.41am on Sunday morning from a friend Rnita Dacho hadn’t spoken to in years. She was at her Sydney home, getting her three-year-old ready for church, when it hit her.
“Those words shook me to my core,” says Dacho, who fled Syria with her family in 2013, when she was 21.
“A wave of relief and hope washed over me,” she says.
“But it was quickly tempered by a profound sense of uncertainty.”
Bashar al-Assad, known as a brutal autocrat, fled the country his family ruled over for 50 years as rebels led by Islamist group Hayat Tahrir al-Sham seized Damascus this week. But the fall of Assad has left a power vacuum and uncertainty about the country’s future and the role of regional powers.
Many Syrian Australians say they are shocked at the quick rebel advance. They are jubilant and relieved at Assad’s fall, yet are equal parts wary and hopeful for what is to come.
‘Culture of fear’
Syria under Assad “was a dangerous time” for Dacho, whose family were involved in the revolution.
“We faced constant threats of harassment, arrest and even disappearance,” she says. “Speaking out, even in the smallest way, is enough to make you a target.
“You live with the knowledge that at any moment, you or your loved ones could be taken away – often with no explanation, no trial, and no hope of justice.”
“Every day felt uncertain,” Dacho says. “I often left home not knowing if I would make it back.”
Her father was imprisoned in 2013 for a month for criticising regime policies in “one of the most harrowing experiences for our family”.
“He was taken without warning, held in a place we didn’t even know existed, and subjected to inhumane conditions. We didn’t know if he was dead or alive.”
When Dacho’s father was released from prison, “he was a shadow of the person he once was”.
At around the same time, about 35km south from Dacho’s family home, academic Rifaie Tammas and his family were suffering under the Assad regime in the town of Qusayr.
Tammas was an activist, while his youngest brother was part of the Free Syrian Army, a group of locals and army defectors which eventually militarised and rebelled against arrests by the regime, he explains.
In 2013, the military assault on Qusayr intensified and the town was besieged.
“A lot of people died. My father was one of them,” says Tammas, who now lives in Sydney.
While evacuating, his brother was shot.
“They opened fire on us. We were in the middle of nowhere, in fields. And then he was shot dead, he was right next to me.”
But violence wasn’t the regime’s only means of oppression, Tammas says.
“It ruled with so many other tools, through its rhetoric, through its policies, through what it said and what it did and what it did not say, through the stories, through … threats of violence.
“It was living and believing that walls have ears. It was not trusting your neighbours, not trusting your friends to talk about political issues.”
‘Some people may go for good’
Said Ajlouni can finally visit home again for the first time in 30 years.
Now the spokesperson for the Australian Syrian Association Victoria, he worked for the government in Syria before leaving for Australia in 1995 when his application to resign from his job was rejected.
“In Syria, if you are working for the government, you cannot resign until you die,” Ajlouni says.
“They sent me correspondence. They said … you have to pay an amount of money, otherwise if you are arrested you will be in prison.”
His father and mother have since died, but his brothers, sisters and their children are still there.
Now, Ajlouni is hopeful to visit the place “where I was raised and lived for the first 30 years of my life”.
“All my friends, colleagues share the same principle … and some people may go for good.”
Waking up on Sunday to news that the regime had ended “was very joyful for us because … many people expected that this will not happen peacefully.”
Changing before their eyes
Tammas watched the news unfold minute by minute, constantly checking in with family and friends in various towns across Syria. While the situation escalated quickly, he did not expect the regime to fall in just 12 days.
“That was just unimaginable,” he says.
As city after city was captured, rebels also opened the doors of the regime’s notorious prisons – from which photos and videos emerged of prisoners, many frail, weeping as they reunited with family.
Seeing the footage, Tammas says, “you can’t help but feel pure joy, and awful sadness too.”
“This started when the first Syrian stood up, when the first Syrian was tortured, when the first Syrian resisted corruption, resisted authoritarianism, knowing full well the consequences,” he says.
“One of the questions I’ve been grappling with is of forgiveness and reconciling it with accountability and justice for the victims.”
Dacho says this is a “monumental shift for Syria”, but is also wary that what will happen next is “filled with daunting questions”.
“Who would step in to lead? How would Syria begin to rebuild after years of conflict and devastation?”
Dacho says while there is a feeling of relief and elation, some minority groups are also grappling with uncertainty.
“As a Christian and an Assyrian, I’ve witnessed how quickly the removal of a government can create a power vacuum, leading to anarchy and the rise of extremist factions,” she says. “This fear of instability and violence weighs heavily on communities like mine.”
Dacho knows that establishing a stable government and rebuilding the country can’t happen overnight.
“Rebuilding will require time, strong leadership, and unity,” she says.
As Ajlouni puts it: “The second stage now is very difficult.”
“We need to rebuild – and the rebuild cannot be done only by the troops or by those fighters,” Ajlouni says.
He hopes countries like Australia will help – which he thinks could include removing terrorist proscriptions on the rebel group who led the forces that toppled the regime.
Hayat Tahrir al-Sham had previously declared allegiance to al-Qaida under its former incarnation as Jabhat al-Nusra, or the al-Nusra Front. It publicly broke those ties in 2016 and rebranded.
On Tuesday, Downing Street said HTS could be removed from the UK’s list of proscribed terrorist organisations.
“Hopefully we are working together to build a free Syria for all people, no matter what type of ethnic, religious background,” Ajlouni says.
Dacho dreams “of a nation where peace and freedom are not just ideals but realities”.
“Where people can build their lives, reconcile their differences, and heal from the trauma of war.”
