Thread by @AlexGSimon

Latakia and Tartous are often framed as Alawi “strongholds” of Syria's fallen regime.

This narrative obscures as much as it illuminates, in a region as complex as any other.

Some excerpts from a 2021 @SynapsNetwork memo, with insight from my brilliant colleague @Lina53968437 🧵

Historically, the port cities of Latakia and Tartous were mostly populated by Sunnis and Christians, who dominated an economy based on maritime trade. Alawis lived in the mountainous hinterlands, subsisting mostly off small-scale agriculture.

Starting in the 1970s, Baathist state-building brought growing numbers of Alawi migrants from the mountains to lowland towns and cities in search of public sector jobs. The region’s urban fabric grew increasingly mixed in terms of sect and class.

Rural Alawi migrants formed neighborhoods on the margins of historical centers, crystallizing over time into pockets of urban poverty, on one side, and an Alawi middle class comprising a mix of civil servants and private sector professionals, on the other.

In 2011, this heterogeneous social fabric produced hopeful displays of intergroup solidarity, with mixed areas—particularly in Latakia city—witnessing genuinely multi-sectarian protests.

But demonstrations were quickly suppressed. The regime proved highly effective at stoking sectarian tensions through relentless propaganda and extreme violence targeting Sunni communities.

By 2012, polarization took on a physical form, via the proliferation of checkpoints that split cities from their hinterlands and created internal boundaries within cities themselves.

Meanwhile, because the coast mostly escaped large scale urban destruction, it became a destination for waves of displaced people.

Newcomers were overwhelmingly Sunni, but came from starkly divergent socioeconomic backgrounds.

One group comprised middle- and upper-class business families from conflict-affected cities, notably Aleppo and Homs. Many brought their capital, their shops, and even whole factories along with them.

Another group was made up of mostly poor, conservative, rural families, who were uprooted from hard-hit areas (including rural Idlib, Homs, Hama, and Aleppo) and fled to coastal cities, towns, and villages.

Many arrived penniless, and struggled to find sustainable housing. They relied on a mix of publicly organized shelters, staying with extended families, and renting in low-income urban neighborhoods.

Locals often distrusted the newcomers, particularly the poor, religiously conservative ones. Many hailed from areas that rebelled against the regime and came under the control of hardline Islamist factions feared by Alawi communities.

Struggling locals worried, moreover, that IDPs would take away scarce jobs, public services, and humanitarian aid.

Some local business owners claimed that newcomers were harder workers than locals, adding to the sense of competition.

More affluent arrivals received a warmer welcome—not least because many hailed from social groups that had stood by the regime (notably Aleppo’s business community).

Yet over time they, too, would draw resentment from locals who came to view them as unwelcome competitors edging out local business.

For more on this particular dynamic, see Synaps’ 2019 essay:
synaps.network/en/post/syria-…

As an influx of Sunni IDPs was reconfiguring the coast’s social fabric, an equally profound transformation was taking place within Alawi society. While a small minority grew ostentatiously rich through their collaboration with the regime, most were plunged into misery.

Alawi communities were ravaged by deaths and disabilities incurred fighting in the ranks of pro-regime forces.

Casualties were so widespread as to give rise to whole new social groups, namely disabled veterans and families of loyalist martyrs.

While these groups received certain perks—charitable handouts, privileged access to jobs and education—the benefits paled relative to the need.

Meanwhile, the collapse of Syria’s currency—and thus the value of public sector salaries—hit hard Alawi communities massively dependent on state jobs, and often with less access to remittances than their Sunni and Christian neighbors.

Adding insult to injury, the coast saw the proliferation of an Alawi nouveaux rich comprising militiamen and cronies. This group—through its privilege, ostentation, and thuggish behavior—drew resentment from virtually all others, to include vulnerable Alawis.

None of which is to pitch Syria’s coast as an emblem of cross-confessional harmony. Intercommunal resentments are real, rooted in extreme violence and suffering. It’s too early to tell how they may shape the coming phase.

The point, simply, is that the region was always more diverse and dynamic than outsiders—and even some insiders—gave it credit for.

Its disparate parts have much in common: Almost all had been sinking deeper into misery, and all have much at stake in building something new.

And a PS: Lina's Twitter handle is now @Lina_Omran83 🤗