Fourteen years after the Syrian revolution, Syria has been freed from the chains of oppression but remains burdened by its wounds. Many have returned to their cities and homes from which they were displaced, carrying with them the heavy memory of pain and longing. Although the dream of returning has been realized, those missing behind bars have yet to return, leaving the dream incomplete and hearts heavy with their absence.
In the darkness of underground cells, where the sounds of life do not reach, the Syrian regime buried countless loved ones. They spent their years in death chambers, guilty only of desiring freedom. The regime built Syria, yes—but underground. People walked above hidden prisons and the cries of detainees, unaware of what lay beneath their feet. It was not enough for the regime to destroy the nation above ground; it also constructed subterranean prisons for the bodies of our loved ones, turning people’s dreams into nightmares and their voices into eternal silence. While parents awaited the return of their children, they often found only scattered bones or charred remains in mass graves.
The people face an arduous task—not just rebuilding what the regime destroyed, but also reviving what remains of their weary souls. The years of displacement and humiliation have ended, but they have left scars that will not easily heal. The era of oppression has ended, but it still resides in our memories. Today, we stand at a crossroads between the past and the present, between the sorrows of yesterday and the hopes of tomorrow.
Bashar al-Assad, the tyrant who devastated Syria, fled to Russia, thinking that escape would guarantee safety. Yet he forgot that the people’s memory is long and that justice, though delayed, will prevail. We will not forget the detainees who were unjustly killed or emerged shattered from the hell of the prisons. We will not forgive those who committed crimes, and we will pursue everyone whose hands are stained with the blood of the people until they are held accountable for every tear and every lost soul—not out of revenge, but for justice.
Today, we face a challenge greater than war: the task of building a new homeland. This is not the end of the road but its beginning.
Yes, the task is difficult, and the wounds have not healed, but in every corner, there is a ray of light reminding us that the dream is not dead. Syria will rise again and remain a homeland of freedom and dignity because we are a people who do not surrender.
Victory will not erase grief, but it will refine us to be stronger. As we mourn those we lost, we celebrate what we have achieved. As we ache for what has passed, we find hope in what lies ahead. The Syria we dreamed of is not far; it is within our reach, waiting for us to rebuild it as it deserves.
