In the aftermath of the Assad regime, cinema remains a mean of resistance that is fiercely striving to remain independent amid repressive policies that curtail the freedom of artistic expression.
In a small, intimate theater in the heart of Damascus, a roomful of people sits on the edge of their seats, watching a film that once seemed impossible to show in Syria.Tadmor (2012) documents the suffering of prisoners in a notorious desert detention center in the ancient Syrian city of Palmyra, capturing the agony of those detained under the Assad regime’s oppressive rule.
When the Damascus-based Film Club Jaramana reached out to Monika Bürgmann, the German co-director of Tadmor, to screen the film, it was a bittersweet moment—as her husband and co-director, Lebanese filmmaker Lokman Slim, had been assassinated by Hezbollah in 2021. “I thought I was dreaming,” she said, still in disbelief. “This screening is the most significant of all the festivals we’ve been a part of.”
Under the Assad regime, Tadmor and other suppressed works were barred from being shown in Syria due to their portrayal of the brutalities of the government. The regime, which came to power in a 1963 coup, boasted a vast network of security forces and informants who created an atmosphere of fear that silenced filmmakers and artists. Any form of expression that challenged the official narrative was harshly censored, and many filmmakers fled Syria to avoid persecution or imprisonment. As a result, Syria’s once vibrant film scene was replaced by state-controlled propaganda, with independent voices muted or completely erased.
Now, after the regime’s collapse in December 2024, films like Tadmor are finally being screened in public venues across the country, marking a significant shift in Syria’s cultural landscape, where state censorship had long stifled free expression in the arts.
A cultural shift in the post-Assad era
For years, Syria's filmmakers operated under the oppressive rule of the Assad regime, which stifled any form of dissent.While exact statistics on filmmakers are unclear, reports indicate that since the 2011 uprising, more than 200,000 Syrians were arrested or abducted, many disappearing into brutal detention centers. This crackdown also targeted filmmakers who dared to challenge the regime's narrative, forcing many into exile.
Under Assad, Syria's National Organization for Cinema strictly controlled film production, promoting works that aligned with the regime’s viewpoint while suppressing those that addressed dissent or the country's painful history.
Films like Stars in Broad Daylight (1988) by Osama Mohammad and Taste of Cement (2017) by Ziad Kalthoum were banned, and their creators were forced to seek international audiences to share their critiques of life under Assad.
Now, in the post-Assad era, Syrian filmmakers can present their stories to the audiences they were originally meant for. "After years of traveling the world, my film is finally where it belongs—shown to its own people," says Kalthoum.
This shift is also visible at local film clubs like the National Building Movement’s Cinema Club. Ahmed Hassan, the club’s president, explains that the club’s establishment a decade ago was driven by a need to present alternative cinema.
The club frequently screened films from Eastern Europe, Asia, and Latin America that dealt with themes similar to the Syrian experience. However, these films did not speak directly to Syria’s situation, as open criticism would have led to the club’s closure and put its organizers at risk.
“We couldn’t show direct criticisms of the regime, but we screened films with implicit messages that resonated with the Syrian struggle, dealing with themes like justice, detention, and forced disappearance,” he said. The club also refused to screen films from the National Organization for Cinema, as they adhered to the regime's narrative.
Now, with Assad's fall, the club benefits from the presence of displaced directors returning to Syria. Hassan notes that directors like Ziad Kalthoum and Iyas Muqdad have both presented their works at the club.
These screenings are more than just a display of new films; they represent a profound cultural shift. As censorship begins to erode, Syria's cultural space is slowly reclaiming the stories that were once suppressed.
The growing movement for freedom of expression
In this new cultural atmosphere, filmmakers are finding a fresh space to engage with Syrian audiences. Initiatives like the Cinema of Freedom project led by Nasser Munther at the Film Club Jaramana have begun screening works that directly address the revolution and its aftermath.His club showcases films that depict the Syrian people's struggle for justice and freedom, including works like Awdat (The Return, 2022) by Ghiath Al Mhitawi and Agnieszka Holland’s Green Borders (2023), a film that explores themes of exile and displacement.
Munther’s goal is to create a platform where Syrians can finally see their own story reflected without the regime’s distorted lens.
“The films presented here speak directly to the experiences of Syrians. They show us what we lived through, and now we can share those stories with each other,” Munther said.
The experience has sparked meaningful conversations about the political and personal impacts of the revolution as filmmakers engage directly with their audiences. For example, The Last Scene by Iyas Muqdad, a film about the early days of the revolution, was screened in Jaramana, where Muqdad was able to discuss the challenges of creating a film about the revolution while in exile.
“The questions from the audience were not just about the technical aspects of filmmaking but also about the political position of the film,” Muqdad said. “As a filmmaker, these are the most important conversations.”
As more and more films from the revolution and its aftermath are shown, they will help shape the collective memory of the Syrian people. Muqdad was happy to see a large number of young people in the theater. “They missed the early days of the revolution, the struggle that came with it. It’s crucial to introduce them to a new vision, one that breaks free from the regime’s propaganda and the media's portrayal of revolutionaries as mere victims,” he said.
This new openness in Syria’s cultural scene is also about healing. Muqdad, who had been in exile since 2011, views his return to Syria as a symbol of both personal and collective recovery.
“I thought I would die as a stranger in a foreign land,” he said, “but now I can share my work with my people, in the place where it all started.”
This piece is published in collaboration with Egab.
December 2025