Title: Post-Assad Damascus Revives in Color, Yet Artists Worry About Freedom Under Islamist Rule

Marwan Tayara, a lighting technician and director of the Madad cultural center in Damascus, prioritizes art over personal fame while advocating for Syria’s artistic future. Following an armed invasion of the center, Tayara rallied support from the art community, leading to the situation’s resolution. Amidst a cautious return to normalcy post-regime change, artists express both optimism and skepticism about the new government, fearing potential restrictions on their freedoms and artistic expression.

Marwan Tayara: A Guardian of Syrian Art

Marwan Tayara prefers to remain out of the spotlight, emphasizing that the focus should be on the art itself rather than his personal story. As a skilled lighting technician and the director of the Madad cultural center in Damascus, Tayara holds deep concerns for the future of artistic expression in Syria. His fears were brought to the forefront when, on New Year’s Eve, armed individuals invaded the historic stone building that houses the center.

“They gave me just one day to gather my belongings and leave,” recalls the 57-year-old Tayara. However, he quickly rallied his friends from the art community, who raised their voices to the authorities. Thankfully, within days, the situation was resolved, and the armed men retreated on the orders of Syria’s new government.

Cultural Resilience Amidst Change

This incident sent shockwaves through Damascus’s cultural elite. Shortly after, Tayara found himself at a solidarity event in the upscale Zawaya gallery, surrounded by fashionable patrons. “I still have no idea who those men were,” he admits. “It seems they intended to take control of the property.”

In recent weeks, a sense of normalcy has begun to return to Damascus. It has been nearly five weeks since the Islamist fighters from Hayat Tahrir al-Sham expelled the despised dictator Bashar al-Assad, leading to celebrations across the nation. However, the initial wave of optimism has faded, giving way to a cautious calm.

While the customs office was previously empty, border patrols are now more stringent, and journalists require special permits to enter. Gunfire has ceased in the capital, and the Islamist militants have largely vanished from the streets.

Nevertheless, many progressive Damascenes harbor skepticism toward the new regime. In the cultural realm, there are fears that the reassuring words of the new leader, Ahmed al-Sharaa, may merely be superficial. Concerns linger that the Islamists might eventually reveal their true intentions, jeopardizing the freedoms that have recently been reclaimed.

Recent actions by the new government have raised eyebrows, including reports of the new Minister of Justice overseeing an execution and the women’s representative making disparaging comments about women. A proposed new curriculum that emphasizes Islamic history has also sparked controversy.

As a 26-year-old Druze woman, Alwan feels particularly vulnerable. She is currently creating a mural in downtown Damascus that honors the heroes of the Syrian uprising, including the young boy from Daraa who was among the first to defy Assad’s regime and Abdul al-Sarut, a revolutionary figure known for his music.

Having spent a significant time in Beirut, Alwan is torn between the joy of regime change and anxiety for what lies ahead. Many artists share her sentiments. “Under Assad, we were prohibited from creating murals,” she recalls. Every performance faced censorship, and the threat of imprisonment loomed large.

Now, artists enjoy newfound freedom to express themselves publicly, gathering in lively venues like “Sugarman,” where they celebrated Assad’s downfall, or in “Café Mazbout,” where sunlight streams through large windows, illuminating discussions about the future of Syria.

The art community in Damascus has endured tremendous challenges. Once a vibrant cultural hub in the Middle East, the city saw a decline in artistic expression following Hafez al-Assad’s rise to power in 1970, leading to mass exoduses of intellectuals. The brutal response to the 2011 uprising further forced countless artists into exile.

Yet, Alwan emphasizes the importance of perseverance. She opts for vibrant colors in her murals, aiming to shift the narrative away from the dark themes that have dominated recently. Others, like sculptor Mustafa Ali, express concern over potential restrictions, noting that Islamists typically oppose figurative art.

Artists may find themselves in a precarious position under the new regime. Despite a rich cultural heritage in Damascus, they form a small minority with predominantly liberal views. “Cities are more liberal, while villages tend to be more conservative,” Alwan observes, acknowledging the understandable inclination for traditional beliefs amidst the hardships wrought by civil war.

At the Zawaya gallery, opinions diverge on how to approach the new government. Some artists advocate for standing firm against the regime, while others suggest engaging in dialogue. However, the lack of a dedicated culture minister hampers such discussions.

Marwan Tayara remains resolute in his commitment to his homeland. Although he holds a Russian passport that allows him to leave, he asserts, “This is my country, and I cherish it.” In his view, Damascus is akin to a vital heartbeat in the world. “Damascus will never succumb,” he declares. “Even Timur, the formidable Mongol leader, was unable to conquer this city.”

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