Rand Al Katreeb

How does a society collapse to the point where neighbors come to see each other as an existential threat and extermination as a reasonable solution?

But an equally important question to ask ourselves is how to bring a deeply traumatized and divided society from the brink of genocide to reconciliation?

In remembrance of the 1860 massacres of Damascus، we shed light on what led to them, how the authorities handled the aftermath, and how the conflict reshaped identities.
Although these events receive little to no attention, understanding their origins help us see sectarian hatred not as an inevitable force of Levantine history but a result of specific political and economic developments over time.

The truth is: most of us know nothing about each other, even though we are of one country, speak one dialect, and share the same food—and even the same sorrow. We don’t know how people from other regions grow up, nor which religions and sects represent them.

Years of fear and isolation have planted distance between us and turned us into strangers to one another. In the end, ignorance became a form of protection, and estrangement the natural result of distance. Yet, this might be a new beginning—a chance to understand ourselves and one another.

Despite the pain of conflict, it is not always the end. The sociologist Lewis Coser sees that conflict can be a chance to break down walls and face each other with honesty. When we ask the hard question about identity, belonging, injustice, and oppression, we begin to reopen the book of Syria, page by page.

The new Syria should recognize all of its narratives and components, rather than a duplicated version of the past. True understanding is not a luxury but a necessity to proceed, and diversity is not a burden but the wealth that could build a homeland that embraces everyone.

The term “gypsy” has been used throughout history in a pejorative way and is recognized by many members of the Dom community and researchers to be a derogatory term, particularly in Europe where they are known as the Roma people. Some members of Syrian society use the Arabic equivalent of the term, which is “Ghajar;” however, “Dom,” the equivalent of “Roma,” is also used.
As one of the ethnic groups that are most vulnerable to discrimination and persecution around the world, this community is considered a prominent ambiguous, diverse, and unrecognized group in Syria. They are known for practicing various professions, such as playing musical instruments, fortune telling, singing, and others; who are the Dom? So, what threat are we exactly facing? And what opportunity lies ahead? How can past mistakes be avoided? What is the most appropriate discourse style? This post seeks to address several issues that are directly related to ongoing social movement in Syria, in the hope of establishing a common ground on which everyone, as Syrians, can stand to engage in a meaningful discussion.