The premise of this essay was inspired by a live experience I facilitated, in the immediate aftermath of the fall of Bashar Al-Assad regime, through an initiative entitled “The Salon“. The initiative was open to interested parties, a humble attempt to explore the intersections of arts, culture and public space, and the potential role of cultural actors and artists in this critical historical moment.
Through the Salon meetings, artists, activists and cultural actors from diverse backgrounds and experiences gathered. They were unified in their drive to answer questions out of real concern: How could we reposition ourselves as actors in a new reality in which the circle of the possible has begun to widen, and in which the power of the imagination, long suppressed under the grip of power, is at least partially released? How can arts and culture play a role in transitional justice, in the protection of human rights, and in reparations? Does the cultural field, at both public and private levels, have the capacity to contribute to these heavy tasks?
We started to think collectively, not to produce ready-made answers, but to open up a free space for questions:
What does cultural work mean in the post-fall reality? How do we protect the vitality and vividness of culture from falling into the trap of new legitimacy or complicity with the next authority? How do we rebuild the relationship with society after years of enforced isolation or internal and external exile? How do we establish a renewed engagement between arts and public space? How can the cultural field become an integral part of public policies, not a detached field or dedicated one to symbolic decoration purposes?
The road proved to be a considerable challenge. Despite the enthusiasm that accompanied the launch of the salon, yet the experiment clearly revealed the limits of reaching the desired destination: the initiative, which was presented individually and not institutionally, did not receive a wide response from those who possess large symbolic and cultural assets within this field. Despite the new changes, the field in question continues to be influenced and run by an established network of interests that allocate symbolism and recognition according to criteria such as belonging/loyalty and soft power.
Nevertheless, the initiative was endorsed by friends, colleagues, and grassroots institutions, which contributed to the expansion of the dialogue. The objective of the salon was not to establish an organization or movement, but rather to create a forum for inquiry, uninhibited imagination, and deliberate and aware refutation of the artificial or fallacious boundaries between cultural and political domains and to challenge conventional thinking patterns concerning the boundaries of possibility and impossibility.
Drawing from this inaugural experience, and from the pressing necessity to revive both imagination and criticism, the following discussion in this essay will explore the potential of arts and culture to transcend its conventional roles and evolve into effective instruments in the creation of a new public sphere, characterised by fairness and inclusivity, in the aftermath of the Syrian regime’s collapse. How might the cultural field be restructured in such a manner that it does not merely mirror identity policies or symbolic power, but rather evolves into an open laboratory to experiment with pathways of freedom and citizenship?
With this spirit, we initiate the text, and under this concern, we seek a new horizon.
Arts and Culture in Syria after the fall: between opportunity and hollowing out
Given the critical moment that post-regime Syria is going through, the question of the relevance and limits of arts and culture is more pressing than ever:
Can culture continue to produce meaning, participate in the reconstruction of society, and raise challenging questions about memory, justice, and belonging without becoming entangled with major political and social issues? Or is the push towards “neutrality” and “artistic purity” an attempt to re-domesticate it and strip it of its basic raison d’être?
What we have witnessed during the decades of repression, and what is beginning to manifest clearly today, is that any attempt to separate the cultural act from politics is not innocent, but rather a process, either conscious or not, of preventing cultural energy from changing the world.
In Syria, as Yassin Al -Hajj Saleh confirms in The Impossible Revolution (2017), the revolution was not merely a political protest movement, but rather a major confrontation with a decades-long cultural legacy of tyranny and the exclusion of public space. As in other experiences in the Eastern Mediterranean, the arts associated with the defence of human rights were subjected to a systematic demonisation: any political reference was seen as a threat to be neutralised, and any critical cultural as “incitement”, not art.
Today, with the expansion of the possibilities after the regime collapse, the dilemma has resurfaced with renewed intensity, albeit with a new guise.
Arts and culture have been identified as a medium for the articulation of freedom of expression, by critiquing the fallen regime. This is achieved by means of invoking the discourse of insults and its symbolic resistance. However, the question remains as to whether these actors would be able to challenge the de facto authorities that were swiftly established in Syria.
What about the audacity in questioning the new authoritarianism, and dismantling the soft hegemony or domination mechanisms that have begun to take shape again?
Swinging between an Alternative and Alternative’s Alternate
In Distinction (1984), Pierre Bourdieu analyses how cultural products do not express innocent individual preferences, rather reproduce social hierarchies through symbolic capital and distinguish elites from marginalised groups. It is evident that both cases – contentment by the symbolic discourse regarding the former regime or the adoption of alleged artistic neutrality – have a negative impact on the potential for reclaiming the true role of arts and culture.
On the one hand, the discourse of resistance is recycled in a manner that perpetuates a cultural stagnation or stalled in the past, hindering the ability to engage with the present or contemporary challenges.
Conversely, the arts are marginalised and confined to a “safe” space, where they are permitted to celebrate the fall of tyranny, yet are prohibited from addressing the heated issues regarding the new authority and ongoing violations.
Despite this, there is still scope for the restoration and re-possession of cultural space today. It may appear that the ceiling of freedoms has risen, this is only marginal and is still deeply influenced by the structures of the new power.
Our newfound reposition as a cultural actor within this space has prompted a renewed sense of caution, subject to unannounced restrictions: There is a fear of losing newly acquired standing after the fall, which compels many to avoid collision or direct confrontation with de facto /established authorities. Consequently, they opt to remain on the periphery of public space rather than engage in the battle of redefining it.
In the context of political transformation fragility, which renders this caution, it threatens relegating cultural action to a mere symbolic “adornment” rather than a catalyst for profound social and political transformation.
Should we fail to utilise our artistic and cultural instruments and tools to combat new forms of repression and violations, we unknowingly risk perpetuating the dynamics of silence and collusion that have used to accuse the former regime of.
The anti-politics machine: How the arts are hollowed out after the fall
In his book The Anti-Politics Machine (1994), James Ferguson provides an in-depth analysis of the manner development projects become instruments of reaffirmation rather than dismantling of authoritarian structures. The author elucidates the process by which social issues are deconstructed and transformed into narrow technical issues, ultimately serving the survival of (the same former) hegemonic interests.
This analysis is particularly pertinent in the context of the Syrian cultural scene now. In lieu of the arts flourishing and working as vital instruments for re-evaluating the dynamics of power and violence, they are regarded as mere entertainment commodities or decorative symbols of a new national identity. The artwork has been separated from its critical and questioning capacity and is being used to serve projects of rearranging power instead of deconstructing it.
In this context, anti-politics is met in two complementary ways:
On the one hand, the arts are normalised within safe spaces, where freedom of expression can be celebrated if it directs its criticism towards the old regime only, not the current power structures.
On the other hand, the arts are being subjected to the market’s logic and formalistic cultural politics. The production and marketing of easily digestible works that lack a connection to significant issues is prevalent, and these works are presented as symbols of modernity and openness, while prohibiting their use in critique and deconstructing/ dismantling the critique of/ the new power.
This hollowing out not only affects the contents, but also the aesthetics of the artistic production itself: Projects turn into comfortable formulas, devoid of internal tension, that do not disturb the audience or collide with the worn-out collective imagination. Conflict is absent, so are the critical questions, and the arts become tools of soft sedation rather than tools to raise the critical anxiety.
The Crisis of Public Debate: The Necessity to Reclaim Space, Not Just Occupy It
The regression of the social roles of arts and culture is not solely due to the fragility of cultural institutions or the scarcity of funds. Rather, it is a direct result of the absence of a coherent cultural system that links artistic creation and education, critical research, social activism, and building an active audience.
Today, after the fall of the regime, we have a historic opportunity to re-own the cultural space, not just to move on its margins.
But it is a pre-conditional possession: It cannot happen without reconnecting the act of art to the social experience and reviving genuine debate in the public sphere, where culture becomes part of the fabric of political and social life, not just an external commentator.
The battle today is being fought on two parallel fronts:
Confronting immediate claims: activating the arts as a means of defending human rights, transitional justice and breaking new hegemonic narratives.
Working strategically to design cultural policies that guarantee freedom of expression, dismantle the symbolic centralisation of power, and protect creative diversity from confiscation in the name of nationalism or common identity.
Protests as a Global Precursor: Lessons Learned for Syria
In Trouble in Paradise (2013), Slavoj Žižek points out that social struggles, no matter how localized, are intensified by a deeper global crisis: The crisis of neoliberal capitalism and the hollowing out of democracy from its real contents.
Likewise, our battle in Syria to promote the intersection of the arts with politics and human rights are not merely a local struggle, but a part of a global resistance against the meaninglessness of public space and against the transformation of culture into a propaganda front for new political regimes that may repeat patterns of domination in disguise ways.
Should this dimension be overlooked or ignored, there is a risk of inadvertently reproducing or perpetuating an enhanced form of authoritarianism, albeit under a new guise, within novel institutions and sterile and uninspiring aesthetics.
This is why defending the politicisation of the arts and their organic integration in the struggles for freedom, justice and dignity is not an elitist luxury or theoretical passion, but rather the first requirement and foremost condition for saving the cultural act itself from dispersion and being waste, and for culture to remain a lively force in the struggle to rebuild Syrian society on new foundations.
Imagination as a necessity: towards redefining the institution & arranging the field at crucial moments
At moments when traditional structures are shattered and unscripted possibilities open up – as is the case in post-regime Syria today – imagination is not a luxury or an intellectual luxury, but an absolute necessity for survival and renewal. When cultural and social institutions are deeply shaken and their roles and meanings are reshuffled, imagination emerges as the most vital tool for repositioning, for questioning concepts and perceptions that have long seemed natural or eternal, but were deeply conditioned by the prevailing political and social contexts.
Cultural institutions are living structures that form and disintegrate according to need and changing social balances. They are neither self-contained entities nor strongholds of a fixed identity. In this critical Syrian moment, we must activate our imagination. This is a strategic task that goes beyond beautifying crises. It is about deconstructing rigid perceptions about the meaning of cultural work and the roles of institutions. We must dare to rethink these perceptions based on the fragility and openness of the present.
Although Imagination is necessary, reliance on it alone remains insufficient if it is not accompanied by persistent critical research into the real basis of cultural action. It is not enough to create new platforms with updated names, nor to change slogans, without re-establishing a real relationship with society as the natural incubator of cultural work, the source of its legitimacy and vital energy. We need to move from a culture of condescension or care to a culture of lively engagement with social contradictions, recognising that culture is not made in sterile laboratories but in the depths of social movements and in the interactions of everyday life.
Continuous Dismantling and Access Locating
The other parallel task’s significance shows as it is to dismantle the symbolic capital accumulated within the cultural field, which has turned into a hidden tool for reproducing concession and exclusion under the slogans of quality, modernity or originality.
Economic capital also produces social classes and a closed pyramid symbolism that excludes new and marginalised voices. We need not to destroy the criteria, but to free them from their moulds and to re-connect creativity with life experiences, not with the elite discourse that is separated from society.
Yet, these tasks cannot be the sole responsibility of institutions, especially in a fragile context such as the post-fall scene in Syria. The responsibility today is first and foremost the responsibility of individuals: artists, intellectuals, activists and social actors who have a real sensitivity to this field. They are called to gather, to organise, to redefine the priorities of the cultural act and to regain the ownership of the cultural and social space that has been confiscated for decades.
It is unacceptable to wait until major institutional initiatives emerge. We must create small and vital networks from within the fragility, capable of producing meaning and resisting the reproduction of the new power with old tools. This endeavour to restore space should not be individual or elitist. It must be built on extensive, open, flexible alliances. These alliances must be able to embrace pluralism and disagreement as an inherent condition for any vibrant and lively cultural building.
In this way, the rearranging and reconfiguration of the cultural field today becomes both an imaginative and realistic act: imagining new ways of joint existence and working tirelessly to organise the self outside of symbolic power circles, building real and interactive relationships with society. Institutions may change, slow down or stumble, but individual and group initiatives can move the field forward and re-establish it as a field of experimentation, of boldness, of freedom and meaning.
In this decisive moment, it is not sufficient to manage crises, but to manage imagination; it is not sufficient to recycle forms, but to create new possibilities, even if they are fragile and temporary.
The rejuvenation of the cultural field in Syria today is not a redistribution of token roles, but an continuous and ongoing exercise in self-accountability or self-examination, a recognition that culture is produced in constant engagement with the world, neither above nor outside it, and that those who do not dare to venture into these new spaces risk remaining a late echo of transformations they no longer in control of.
Arts and Human Rights: A Necessary Alliance or a Postponed Battle/delayed battle?
When we contemplate the relationship between the arts and human rights, we are not encountered by a free choice or an intellectual luxury, but rather by an existential root of the very nature of the artistic act itself. Art is, at its core, an exercise of freedom: Freedom of expression, freedom of imagination, freedom to question and reshape reality, and human rights, in their basic structure, are nothing but a legal and political enshrinement of this freedom, and of human dignity as being non-negotiable.
In the current Syrian context, the need to reconnect the arts with the defence of rights and freedoms has never been more urgent than in the wake of the fall of the regime. While the old regime is being dismantled, de facto authorities are formed in the background that seek to redraw the boundaries of public space, and they often seeking to confine culture and the arts to controlled symbolic spaces that allow free expression of the recent past (criticism of the fallen regime), but are unwilling reticent or reluctant to confront the challenges of the living present (actual criticism of the emerging authority).
These attempts are not confined to the Syrian context, but can be clearly observed in other regional experiences, especially in some Gulf countries, such as the (United Arab of) Emirates and (Kingdom of) Saudi Arabia.
Significant investments are directed towards the cultural and artistic infrastructure, encompassing institutions such as museums, theatres and prominent festivals. However, the arts are increasingly directed towards providing safe entertainment and charm offensive of the state’s image, with a notable absence of political or social accountability. Instead/On the contrary, this surge in momentum and media attention is being utilised to obfuscate massacres and instances of collusion/ complicity.
Art that challenges freedom issues, social disparity, and human rights is often met with marginalisation and criticism. This contrasts with artistic expressions that are celebrated for their “universality” and “neutrality”, though these latter artistic expressions are, in essence, demilitarised and critical in nature. In this context, the arts are transformed into a cosmetic interface for major political projects, whose objective is to establish new legitimacy, rather than to edit the public space or expand its capabilities.
In these examples, there is clearly an acknowledged risk of arts transformed from acting as a critical force into simply a decoration of power, from tools of engagement to mechanisms of entertainment and distraction. This danger is not far from the current Syrian context: When the cultural field is reorganized without explicitly linking it to issues of rights and freedoms, we risk producing a modified version of a symbolic tyranny, less violent perhaps, but more capable of confiscating the imagination.
It is not our intention to provide evidence to support the axioms; rather, our focus is on restoring the actual engagement.
According to “An Artist’s Manual Against Apartheid,” published by Shabak platform, resistance to oppression is incomplete without art’s engagement with the public and political sphere
Therefore, reconsideration of the arts’ role with its defensive function as an integral part of the human rights defense movement is not a temporary assignment or passing task, nor a slogan for international consumption, but rather a long-standing strategic battle. The art that promotes its responsibility in defending human dignity not only expresses a specific political position, but also contributes to redefining the same policy: not as a struggle for power, but as a struggle for meaning, to the distribution of symbolism, and the right to expression, imagination, and dream.
Social movements seeking change are called upon today, in Syria and elsewhere, to embrace the arts not as propaganda tools, but as independent actors capable of broadening the political imagination and inventing new languages to express anger, hope, defeat, and revival. Cultural and artistic actors themselves are called upon to engage deeply in human rights and political debates, not as mere “supporters (and enablers)” of existing causes, but as partners in rebuilding the public space based on freedom, dignity and equality.
Defending artistic freedom can be defined as a defence of the right to think differently, the right to criticise authority wherever it may be, and the right to imagine a more just and pluralistic future. In the event of a failure to adequately defend human rights in the absence of arts and culture, it is to be expected that the arts, which are inherently concerned with major human issues, will gradually lose their raison d’être and become mere decorations, silent spaces that are domesticated within new systems of symbolic control.
In the contemporary context of post -fall Syria, the struggle for arts is not merely a confrontation with the past; it is also a battle with the present, which is in a state of being reshaped, and with the future, the construction of which is predicated on the restoration of the right to imagination, the right to error, and the right to articulate that which ought to be expressed, as opposed to that which is allowed or permitted to be expressed.
Our concern is not only an ethical one, but an epistemological one as well: We know, intuitively, that deconstructing the relationship between culture, human rights, and political activism does not mean neutralising the arts but rather domesticating them. We know that the claim of “pure art” is not innocent, but an act of oppression in its own, an act of de-recognising people’s suffering, their dreams, and their ability to produce new meanings that resist this world of excess, surveillance and banality.
