Don’t Fall for the New Syrian Regime’s Claims of Moderation

Hours after the Syrian rebel group Hayat Tahrir al-Sham (HTS) seized Damascus and sent Bashar al-Assad packing to Russia, Western politicians and pundits began contemplating the possibility of a free, moderate, inclusive, and (perhaps even) democratic Syria. Experience urges two measures of caution for every one of hope.

HTS’s rise has sparked debates over whether the group, previously aligned with ISIS and al-Qaeda, has genuinely transformed. Despite being labeled a terrorist group by the United States in 2018, HTS claims to have moderated its ideology and governing style, especially since it started ruling a piece of Idlib province in 2017.

In recent years, HTS’s head honcho, the specially designated global terrorist Ahmed al-Sharaa (a.k.a. Abu Mohammad al-Jolani), has worked hard to rebrand the group as “inclusive” and “progressive.” Since Assad’s ousting, Sharaa has promised to grant amnesty for lower-level government and military personnel, free political prisoners, and cooperate with all sects. These moves are part of a longtime HTS effort to modulate its rhetoric, moderate its behavior, and modify its reputation.

This rebranding — worthy of a hefty Madison Avenue consultancy fee — has led some Western experts to advocate (and some U.S. officials to contemplate) removing HTS from the terrorist list and lifting the $10 million bounty on al-Sharaa’s head because HTS has “adopted more moderate ideas and tactics.” In doing so, the argument goes, Washington and others could engage HTS, steer it in the “right” direction, and release funding to help build a stable government, as London has already done.

To that, we argue: not so fast.

Extreme Islamist movements seeking political power often seek to rebrand themselves to gain international legitimacy. Western capitals take these movements at their word, only to see their true intentions once in power. Historical cautionary tales like Iran’s Islamic Revolution and Egypt’s Muslim Brotherhood exemplify how often this initial Western optimism is misplaced.

The fall of the Iranian shah in 1979, much like the ousting of Assad today, was initially hailed as an opportunity for democratic reform. The revolutionary leader, Ayatollah Ruhollah Khomeini, presented himself as a benevolent spiritual leader who was uninterested in day-to-day rule and committed to democratic principles.

During a December 1978 conversation with U.S. officials, Khomeini’s envoy to the United States, Ibrahim Yazdi, promised that the Islamic movement would bring nonviolence, free elections, and human rights to Iran. A month later, Khomeini encouraged these delusions. On January 10, 1979, he said Iran could have “good relations with the United States” if it stopped supporting the shah. A day later, Khomeini urged his followers “to avoid attacks on agents of the old regime,” underscoring his revolution’s “benevolence.”

These assurances hoodwinked many American scholars and policymakers.

The most duped victim was Princeton professor Bernard Falk. In his New York Times piece, “Trusting Khomeini,” Falk lauded the Islamic Revolution’s victory in a way that could be mistaken for satire today. Falk found the Western depiction of Khomeini “as fanatical, reactionary and the bearer of crude prejudices” to be “certainly and happily false.” In fact, Falk argues, Khomeini’s closest advisers are “uniformly composed of moderate, progressive individuals” who could foster a “desperately needed model of human governance for a third-world country.”

But Falk wasn’t alone. Professor Richard Cottam — a former CIA operative and longtime Iran scholar — interviewed Khomeini in Paris in late 1978. In his report back to the Carter administration, Cottam “was struck by how little Khomeini’s ego appeared to be involved in the movement, . . . reflecting [the] egalitarian dominance of Islamic socialist ideology.” Some State Department officials likened Khomeini to Gandhi, a spiritual figure who would leave bureaucracy and governing to the technocrats and politicians.

The reality, of course, was far different. Once in power, Khomeini remained there — for life — despite his original promise. He sidelined moderates and entrenched clerical rule. He took a wrecking ball to U.S.–Iran relations. Most importantly, he instituted a brutal theocracy — far more deadly and destabilizing than the one it replaced. Ironically, in 1982, Falk reversed himself, aptly calling Khomeini’s regime “the most terroristic since Hitler.”

More recently, Egypt’s Muslim Brotherhood embarked on a similar trajectory, though it was cut short. After Hosni Mubarak’s ousting in 2011, the Brotherhood pledged “reform and rights for all.” In a February 2011 New York Times piece, a member of the Brotherhood’s guidance council, Essam El-Erian, also promised that the organization would neither “take a dominant role in the forthcoming political transition” nor field a candidate for president.

It was a lie. The Brotherhood quickly formed a political party that dominated the 2011–12 parliamentary elections and elected Mohamed Morsi president. During less than 400 days in power, Morsi cracked down on dissent, attempted to give himself extrajudicial powers, and forced through a constitution that eroded women’s rights and empowered Islamist groups. His disdain for democracy fostered months of violence, division, and his eventual downfall. It’s also important to remember that Morsi and his Muslim Brotherhood government could have done far more damage, but they were constrained by the military, which may have precluded any early moves toward Sharia law.

The Brotherhood’s short-lived rule was not as democratic, free, or cooperative as the organization promised its Western backers and as U.S. officials wanted to believe so badly. 

HTS’s attempts to sell itself as a kinder, gentler Islamic group echo the rhetoric of Khomeini’s revolution and Egypt’s Muslim Brotherhood. In short, it’s a familiar ploy for extreme Islamist groups to rebrand themselves as “moderate” and “inclusive.” As these groups seek political control, they intentionally (and often deceptively) parrot the language of liberal Western governments to curry enough financial backing and international legitimacy to win international recognition and secure aid. They prattle on about how “pragmatic” and “changed” they are and how they are willing to moderate their views on women’s rights and respect religions other than Islam. 

Western governments fulfill their end of the bargain, hoping their support will encourage these groups to live up to their promises. Then, once firmly in power, they revert to repression and — of special note for us — anti-Western vehemence. (For this exact playbook, also see the Taliban just three years ago.) 

It is impossible to know if these Islamist groups are remotely committed to the Western-friendly values they initially espouse. What we do know is that once in control, these groups often employ autocratic methods to silence domestic critics, rival factions, and terrorists. Within the group, the extreme hard-liners take the reins — sidelining moderates — and push a conservative Islamic agenda. The realities of political power often scuttle any attempt (honest or otherwise) at liberal governance.

This is why we remain skeptical of HTS. Beneath the group’s recent public relations campaign lies a troubling reality: HTS already has a documented history of torturing opponents, repressing journalists, and committing human rights abuses against religious minorities. Yes, it instituted a civilian-led government in Idlib, but it also ruled this northwestern province with an iron, authoritarian grip. It also enforced conservative Islamic practices in Idlib, though the group did not emulate the Islamic State’s draconian measures, which isn’t saying much.

HTS leaders also remain deeply rooted in Islamist extremism. Sharaa’s early ties to al-Qaeda and his five-year imprisonment at Iraq’s Camp Bucca — where the most hardworking radical extremists were sent — underscore the group’s ideological bent. HTS’s much-needed rebranding may ease its path to power in the weeks to come, but experience urges caution. Once it has garnered the reins of power, HTS rule is just as likely — or more so — to follow the pattern of other historically Islamic extremist regimes.  

Rather than rushing to legitimize HTS, Washington should learn the lessons of history and adopt a wait-and-see approach. HTS’s terrorist designation should remain firmly in place until there is clear, concrete, and long-term evidence of ideological and behavioral transformation. Lifting this designation prematurely risks empowering and enabling another autocratic regime — or, worse, another brutal Islamist theocracy.

The Biden administration has recommended “a set of governing principles” that HTS should adopt, but no one should confuse adopting principles with living by them. Instead of finding ways to advise the emerging Syrian government, Washington should remain laser-focused on its chief strategic interests in Syria: (1) countering ISIS, (2) ensuring Iranian-backed activity in Syria no longer endangers our allies, and (3) reducing the extremism that spreads repression and exports harm beyond that troubled state. If HTS has truly moderated, it will apprehend the heavy doses of outsider skepticism over its ability to move beyond its extreme past and chart a new course for Syria.

We, too, share the dream of a free, inclusive, and prosperous Syria. But HTS’s membership rolls and track record do not inspire confidence in such an outcome. As policymakers weigh their options, they must remember the lessons of prior Islamist movements turned political regimes: they talk about progress before dealing out repression. In this case, experience counsels this maxim: Don’t trust, verify. Then verify again.

Lewis Libby is a distinguished fellow at the Foundation for Defense of Democracies. He previously served as an assistant to the president, national security adviser to the vice president, and principal undersecretary of defense for policy. Nick Danby is an intelligence officer in the U.S. Navy. He recently completed a two-year tour in the Indo-Pacific region. The views expressed in this publication are those of the authors and do not necessarily represent the views of the U.S. government, Department of Defense, or Department of the Navy.