The Fall of Bashar al-Assad, in Photos

On November 29, Syrian rebels breached the western limits of Aleppo, Syria’s largest city in the north, which had suffered the greatest destruction of any other city in the country’s thirteen-year-long civil war. The offensive triggered the “death spiral” of Bashar al-Assad’s regime, as a mixed coalition of former rebels, local strongmen, and regular people, suddenly emboldened, captured the southern city of Daraa, near the border with Jordan. Rebels from the north, led by the Islamist faction Hayat Tahrir al-Sham, or HTS, continued to push toward the capitol city of Damascus, while popular uprisings swelled in the south. Within two weeks, Assad fled to Moscow without a last word—the unceremonious end to a 54-year autocracy.

What happens next? Tensions are simmering between HTS and other factions, particularly the Turkish-backed militias who oppose the relative autonomy of the US-backed Kurds to the country’s east. The US vowed to continue its own military operations in Syria’s northeast against remaining pockets of ISIL and Iranian-backed proxies. Israel has dropped hundreds of bombs all throughout Syria since the fall of Assad and even seized a swath of southern territory, a “buffer zone” northeast of the Golan Heights.

Some parts of the Syrian population are fearful of HTS, which the US still categorizes as a terrorist organization, and which has previously targeted and detained political opponents, activists, journalists, and other critics, and enforced gender segregation in its schools. More recently, it has presented itself in more “moderate” terms. Assuaging fears from the business elite, Syria’s new government said it would soon “adopt a free-market model,” shedding itself of state-controlled industries and liberalizing its economy, a shock treatment of sorts to propel international investment. In his first interview with US press in 2021, Abu Mohammad al-Jolani, HTS’s leader and a former Al-Qaeda fighter, declared the region he controlled “does not represent a threat to the security of Europe and America.” But what of regular Syrians?

That remains an open question. In the meantime, the streets are flooded with people celebrating the fall of Assad, refugees in Turkey are planning their return home, and prisoners—some of whom have been held in brutal conditions for years—are being liberated. As we speak, people mourn the dead and search for the missing, hoping for the best.

View of different cell phones belonging to the relatives of missing men believed to be held in Sednaya Prison by the Assad regime.

Left: Ahmed Al Malali, age 67, holds a phone with a picture of his nephew, Saleh Hadeed Al Malali, age 44. Saleh was accused of terrorism and sent to prison in 2014. Right: Berkhawi Khalaf Al Hamed, age 62, stands for a picture in Sednaya Prison. He visited the prison looking for information about his son Fadhel Berkhawi Al Hamed, born in 1985 in Al Kamishli, who was sent to prison in 2018. "In 2020, I was waiting for a supposed pardon that Bashar Al Assad was going to give to some prisoners. The pardon never arrived," he said. "I couldn't afford the 20 million Syrian Pounds they were asking for to visit him [in prison]." Many relatives said their imprisoned family members requested they avoid visiting the prison, because they were often beaten and heavily mistreated after family visits. — Left: Ahmed Al Malali, age 67, holds a phone with a picture of his nephew, Saleh Hadeed Al Malali, age 44. Saleh was accused of terrorism and sent to prison in 2014. Right: Berkhawi Khalaf Al Hamed, age 62, stands for a picture in Sednaya Prison. He visited the prison looking for information about his son Fadhel Berkhawi Al Hamed, born in 1985 in Al Kamishli, who was sent to prison in 2018. “In 2020, I was waiting for a supposed pardon that Bashar Al Assad was going to give to some prisoners. The pardon never arrived,” he said. “I couldn’t afford the 20 million Syrian Pounds they were asking for to visit him [in prison].” Many relatives said their imprisoned family members requested they avoid visiting the prison, because they were often beaten and heavily mistreated after family visits.

Members of the rebel forces who helped liberate the prison from the Assad regime walk down a cell corridor at Sednaya Prison.

Bilal Al Haidad, from the southern town of Daraa, stands for a picture close to a cell entrance. Bilal, born in 1994, was imprisoned in 2019 and liberated on Sunday, Dec. 8, 2024, when rebel forces took over the prison. “There is nobody left from 2018 and before," he told The New Republic; everyone he knew that was in the prison then were "all killed.” — Bilal Al Haidad, from the southern town of Daraa, close to a cell entrance. Bilal, born in 1994, was imprisoned in 2019 and liberated on Sunday, Dec. 8, 2024, when rebel forces took over the prison. “There is nobody left from 2018 and before,” he told The New Republic; everyone he knew that was in the prison then were “all killed.”

Youssef Dahham Al-Shamlan, age 31, from Deir Ez-Zor, stands inside the cell where he had been imprisoned in 2021. “I don’t remember how much time I spent in prison; my family counted the days," he said. Youssef came back to Sednaya to look for his brother Taha, who had been sent to prison in 2014. Youssef's family hadn't heard from him for the past ten years. “How can I go back to my family without bringing Taha back?" he asked. "My family call me and ask, 'When are you and Taha coming back?' and I’m unable to respond. We now have nothing. My family sold the house to pay for Taha’s release, but he didn’t come. Our house and my brother Taha have gone under the ground of Sednaya.” Right: a view of a cage for detention, with a 2x2 square-foot surface. — Youssef Dahham Al-Shamlan, age 31, from Deir Ez-Zor, stands inside the cell where he had been imprisoned in 2021. “I don’t remember how much time I spent in prison; my family counted the days,” he said. Youssef came back to Sednaya to look for his brother Taha, who had been sent to prison in 2014. Youssef’s family hadn’t heard from him for the past ten years. “How can I go back to my family without bringing Taha back?” he asked. “My family call me and ask, ‘When are you and Taha coming back?’ and I’m unable to respond. We now have nothing. My family sold the house to pay for Taha’s release, but he didn’t come. Our house and my brother Taha have gone under the ground of Sednaya.” Right: a view of a cage for detention, with a 2x2 square-foot surface.

Groups of people, mostly made up of relatives and the local civilian population, examine the blueprints for the different buildings, searching for clues that might lead to hidden cells, bodies of prisoners, and proof of crimes such as torture, executions, or forced disappearances.

Searchers inspect a room found behind a wall that connects three different cells. Secret rooms such as this one were common in Sednaya Prison; others have been found containing surviving prisoners and dead bodies.

A group of men digging a tunnel in an area behind the prison leading to the hills that surround the main building of the prison. — A group of men is excavating a tunnel in an area behind the prison, leading toward the hills surrounding the main building. Rumors from released prisoners suggest the existence of additional mass graves or possibly more tunnels where prisoners might be held deeper within the underground network.

Polyptych: View of different empty cells and the inmates' belongings while in detention at the Sednaya Prison. The cells—some as small as 6 by 4 meters—were holding between twenty and more than forty inmates. Guards often arbitrarily locked the prisoners in these cells for many days in a row, with no food or medical treatment. — Polyptych: View of different empty cells and the inmates’ belongings while in detention at the Sednaya Prison. The cells—some as small as 6 by 4 meters—were holding between twenty and more than forty inmates. Guards often arbitrarily locked the prisoners in these cells for many days in a row, with no food or medical treatment.

The morgue at Damascus Hospital struggles with limited resources and outdated equipment, making the task of managing and identifying bodies extremely challenging

A man, who had collected folders full of personal information from Sednaya prison, addresses the crowd, attempting to organize the chaotic process of locating their loved ones held in Sednaya Prison.

View of handwritten files with information about prisoners, which were recovered when rebel forces took over the prison. Many of the documents are in poor condition, nearly destroyed, with missing information, but searchers are still hopeful they can use them to locate prisoners in the facility—or at least who was there at a given period of time.

Ahmed Al Malali, age 67, from Al Kamishli, stands for a picture in a corridor of Sednaya Prison. He has come to look for his nephew, Saleh Hadeed Al Malali, born in 1980. Saleh was accused of terrorism and sent to prison in 2014. The family was notified in 2015 that he was being held in Sednaya, but since then they haven’t received any news. “I’m completely desperate, I only have hope in God," he told The New Republic. "I don’t have hope in people anymore.” — Ahmed Al Malali, age 67, from Al Kamishli, stands for a picture in a corridor of Sednaya Prison. He has come to look for his nephew, Saleh Hadeed Al Malali, born in 1980. Saleh was accused of terrorism and sent to prison in 2014. The family was notified in 2015 that he was being held in Sednaya, but since then they haven’t received any news. “I’m completely desperate, I only have hope in God,” he told The New Republic. “I don’t have hope in people anymore.”

Ms. Samar Saeed, 50, poses for a photo in a common area under the watchful eye of a central tower. — Ms. Samar Saeed, 50, has come to Sednaya in search of her son, Enat Omar Rasheed, 30, who was taken to the prison from Al Ghouta in 2012. In the past 12 years, she has seen him only once and has had no news of him since. Despite this, she remains hopeful, saying, “I feel in my heart I will find him, I know it. All he has ever done is work on his leather craft. He was a very respectable man and always treated me with such respect.

“I remember visiting my dad and seeing him only for 3 minutes and always attached with iron chains," Yamen Jamal, age 16, told The New Republic. "I feel happy this happened," he said, referring to the fall of the Assad regime. "They liberated my dad from a bastard; they were very savage.” — “I remember visiting my dad and seeing him only for 3 minutes and always attached with iron chains,” Yamen Jamal, age 16, told The New Republic. “I feel happy this happened,” he said, referring to the fall of the Assad regime. “They liberated my dad from a bastard; they were very savage.”

Emad Yassin Jamal, age 34, seen at his bed in Al Nafeez Hospital, where he is recovering from a broken hip after being accused of terrorism and spending four years in prison. Emad was liberated from Sednaya Prison on Sunday, December 8. Relatives of other prisoners constantly visit him to see if he has any clues to the whereabouts of their loved ones, who were possibly imprisoned in Sednaya.

Bilal Shaheen, age 28, sits in the living room of his family house on the periphery of Damascus. Bilal was liberated on Sunday, December 8, when rebel forces took over the Sednaya Prison. “We first heard people shouting that Bashar’s regime was falling, and then we heard the rebels approaching. With one rope, all together, we managed to break one door, and then I knew of a lock that activated and opened all locks. I used to work distributing medicines and food and knew many areas of the prison, even if most of the time they were bringing me to some parts with my eyes blind-folded. Rebels took me to open other cells. I couldn’t understand the situation. Some cells were a hell, because people inside had completely lost their minds. There were corpses and people eating from the dead bodies. I felt I was having a heart attack. I told the rebels I would open one last door and then run to my house.”

Bilal Shaheen, age 28, hugs a close friend; it's the first time they've seen each other since he returned from Sednaya Prison. — Bilal Shaheen, age 28, hugs a close friend; it’s the first time they’ve seen each other since he returned from Sednaya Prison.

Left: At a balcony of an old train station in Damascus, a group of women observe the demonstration moving the casket of Mazem Al Hamadah. Mazem's body was recently found inside Sednaya Prison. — Left: At a balcony of an old train station in Damascus, a group of women observe the demonstration moving the casket of Mazem Al Hamadah. Mazem’s body was recently found inside Sednaya Prison. Right: Mariam Majeed Al Bakhtari stands for a picture at the Al Nafeez Hospital in the outskirts of Damascus while visiting a recently liberated prisoner to ask for information about her nephew and two brothers-in-law, who were among those taken from thirty different families in the suburb of Hajira. Mariam was a prisoner herself, detained in a street raid in Ghouta in 2018. “They made me drink urine and then scream, ‘There is no God but Bashar Al Assad,’” she said.

Near Damascus Hospital in the Syrian capital, people gather for a demonstration in memory of different activists, among them Mazem Al Hamadah, whose body was recently discovered inside Sednaya Prison. Mazem was detained by the Syrian regime for protesting against Assad during the Arab Spring. He was released in 2013 and given asylum in the Netherlands, but when he returned to Syria in 2020, he was detained again. Mazen was tortured to death around a week before the body was found.