From Revolution to Constitution-making: The Syrian People’s Struggle and Legal Ambiguity in the New Constitutional Declaration

Samer Alnasir

Samer Alnasir is a former associate professor of Legal History at the University of Carlos III of Madrid, and is currently an Independent Postdoctoral Scholar

The remarkable and tragic victory of the Syrian revolution – after a brutal one-and-a-half decade struggle, marked by hundreds of thousands of deaths and millions of displaced citizens – finally witnessed its dawn on December 7, 2024. However, the aftermath of that historic date bears no resemblance to any previous state coup in Syria. Unlike the multiple coups of the 1950s and 1960s, where new rulers immediately sought to establish their legal status, the current scenario is entirely different.

The newly formed Victorian authority remained absent from the public sphere for 50 days following the regime’s defeat – a symbolic gesture marking 50 years of repression. Yet, when it finally emerged, it did so without presenting any constitutional declaration. The so-called ‘Syrian Revolution Victory Conference’ was, in essence, nothing more than a ceremonial event to appoint a state President – an individual who had already been exercising de facto constitutional authority without any formal minimalist constitutional declaration or even basic constitutional principles.

Syria's state continuity remained in limbo. The last official gazette under the former regime was published on November 27, 2024, while the new authority failed to take full control of government institutions. Meanwhile, the ‘National Front for Liberation’, which had been operating in exile in Idlib under the name the Syrian Salvation Government, had its own official gazette but had ceased publication as of November 5, 2024. Instead of formal state communications, the new transitional authority relied almost entirely on social media (particularly Twitter/X) for public announcements, which were not officially published in any formal state record. Despite this, these announcements included critical measures such as the dissolution of the old regime’s army and security apparatus, the permanent banning of the Ba’ath Party, and the expropriation of all its assets in favor of the new national government.

Now, without having previously established a constitutional foundation, but by mandate set out in the ‘Victory Conference’, an interim constitutional declaration has been signed by the newly appointed President. This document, however, is not identified as a ‘Constitution’ but merely as a ‘constitutional declaration’, intended to regulate governance throughout the next sixty-month transitional period. This blog post will outline some of the key features of this document, and address some of its critical drawbacks.

The essential elements of the new constitutional declaration are as follows.

1. Affirmation of the unitary state

   The unitary state model was the most fundamental demand of the Dialogue Conference (a civil society conference held on 24-25 Feb), reflecting a persistent aversion to federalism across the Arab world. Consequently, the constitutional declaration explicitly reaffirms the unitary nature of the Syrian state, mirroring the stance of the 2012 Constitution and all its predecessors.

2. Religious neutrality and continuity

   The new declaration does not establish a specific state religion but instead retains the previous constitutional formula: “The religion of the President is Islam” (Art. 3.1), as seen in both the 1973 and 2012 Constitutions a. Additionally, the text restates that “Islamic jurisprudence is the main source of legislation” (Art. 3.2), slightly altering the 2012 phrasing, which declared it as merely a ‘principal’ source rather than the ‘main’ source. This shift aligns with Egypt’s 1980 constitutional reform, emphasizing Islamic jurisprudence as a legislative reference rather than a direct governance framework. However, this provision remains legally ambiguous; while it acknowledges religious influence, it does not automatically integrate religious rulings into governance unless formalized through parliamentary legislative act to be converted into a law of the land.

3. Implied reform in military service

   Although the constitutional declaration does not explicitly abolish compulsory military service, it repeatedly associates the term ‘national army’ with the principle of “professionalism” (Art. 9.1, 48.8). This wording suggests an implicit move from the decades-long practice, whereby the former regime had an authoritarian grip over military conscription.

4. Enhanced social and gender protections

   The constitutional declaration enshrines equal citizenship rights, with Article 10 explicitly prohibiting discrimination based on race, religion, gender, or affiliation. Furthermore, Article 21 extends additional protections for women’s status in society, reinforcing their role in the family, access to education, and equal employment opportunities – marking a progressive step in comparison to previous constitutional frameworks.

5. Preservation of the presidential system

   The state structure outlined in the text of the new declaration largely replicates the centralized presidential system of its predecessors. While it frequently refers to the separation of powers (Art. 2), it maintains the judiciary’s authoritative control over military justice (Art. 45.2), a defining characteristic of the old regime. Additionally, it preserves the isolation of administrative justice (Art. 45.3), thereby maintaining a highly centralized governance model, reminiscent of Syria’s prior constitutional structures.

While the new declaration introduces several positive features, several critical drawbacks must also be addressed:

1. Excessive presidential control over the legislature

   The declaration centralizes state power in the hands of a single individual, reinforcing a highly presidential regime. The President has the sole discretion to appoint one-third of the National Assembly (Art. 24.3) while the remaining two-thirds are selected by a higher commission – also appointed by the President (Art. 24.1&2). This circular mechanism effectively allows the President to control the composition of the entire legislature. Furthermore, the text does not specify the total number of parliamentary seats, leaving a critical ambiguity as to legislative representation.

   This lack of clarity undermines the principles of representative democracy and risks fostering a system where executive power is disproportionately concentrated, as it was under the preceding regime.

2. Lack of presidential accountability and impeachment mechanism

   The declaration fails to provide any framework for presidential accountability, impeachment, or succession beyond internal appointment. Article 34 grants the President exclusive authority to appoint, dismiss, or accept the resignation of Vice Presidents. In the event of a presidential vacancy, the first Vice President assumes power – without any parliamentary oversight.

   Additionally, Article 33 reinforces this self-referential authority, as the President first appoints the National Assembly (directly and indirectly, as described above), and then proceeds to take his oath before the very body he created. Meanwhile, Article 27 mandates that Parliament members swear their oath not before the parliamentary speaker, but directly before the President who appointed them – further entrenching executive dominance.

3. Unchecked war and martial law powers

   Article 41 expands presidential authority by allowing the head of state to declare war unilaterally, subject only to approval from the National Security Council – a body composed primarily of ministers and advisors under the President’s influence (including the defense, foreign, and interior ministers, intelligence chief, and two additional presidential advisors). This process completely bypasses parliamentary approval, contradicting fundamental democratic principles.

   Furthermore, the President has the power to declare martial law across the country, either fully or partially, for a three-month period – without any initial parliamentary involvement (Art. 41.2). Consultation is required only with the parliamentary Speaker and the President of the Constitutional Court, but neither holds veto power. Parliamentary approval is only required for renewals beyond three months, leaving significant executive leeway to suppress civil liberties during this transitional period.

4. Presidential control over the judiciary

   The Constitutional Court, a critical institution meant to ensure legal checks on executive power, is entirely appointed by the President (Art. 47.2). There is no role for the Parliament or any independent body in its selection process, undermining judicial independence. Furthermore, Article 47.2 does not delineate any specific rules for, or competencies given to, the Court, leaving significant ambiguity as to what role the Constitutional Court is expected to play.

5. Ambiguous transitional justice framework

   Article 49 introduces a ‘Transitional Justice Committee’, but the declaration does not mandate a parliamentary regulatory act to define its structure or scope. While Section 3 of Article 49 criminalizes apology for the old regime or denial of its crimes, it fails to specify any legal or penal framework for such violations. Moreover, there is no mention of parliamentary legislation to establish binding mechanisms for accountability, leaving the transitional justice process vague and politically vulnerable.

6. Constitutional amendments centralized in the presidency

   Article 50 grants the President the exclusive power to propose amendments to the constitutional declaration, requiring two-thirds approval from the Parliament. However, given that the Parliament itself is presidentially appointed, this provision effectively undermines any independent amendment process, further consolidating executive authority.

7. Ambiguity in the transitional period’s timeframe

   Article 52 states that the constitutional declaration will remain in effect for five years from the date of its entrance in validity (though note the ambiguity as to when that date is, explained briefly in point 8 below). However, it also states that the declaration will only cease to be valid with the adoption of a new Constitution and the organization of new elections. It fails to outline any extension framework should the transitional government struggle to meet this deadline. The absence of a clear contingency plan raises additional concerns about a potential constitutional vacuum at the end of this period, especially since the text lacks any specific provisions that ensure or facilitate the adoption of a new constitution and organization of elections throughout the five-year period.

8. Unclear publication and legal effectiveness

   Finally, Article 53 states that the constitutional declaration takes effect upon its publication in the ‘Official Gazette’. However, it does not specify which Gazette – a critical ambiguity, as no official gazette publication has been issued thus far. Until then, the declaration has been promulgated only through social media announcements, raising doubts about its formal legal standing of such a ‘Twitter Constitution’.

In conclusion,  the most fitting categorization for the new governance structure is that of a de facto regime. While de facto states typically emerge from prolonged popular struggles, this case presents an interesting paradox – a popular victory over a repressive government that is now being managed with legal ambiguity, rather than clear constitutional legality. This case also highlights how the international community engaged with the new authorities despite the absence of even a minimalist constitutional framework, underscoring its legal ambiguity. It also serves as an illustrative counterpoint to Hauriou and Gicquel's assertion that a nation presenting itself to the international community without a constitution is akin to an individual arriving at a formal dance in swimwear (see André Hauriou and Jean Gicquel, Droit constitutionnel et institutions politiques (Paris: Montchrestien, 1966), 73).

Moreover, while the declaration provides a framework for transitional governance, it does not yet embody a true self-constitution by the people. Instead of establishing a new political order based on inclusion, participation, and institutional balance, it largely reinforces old patterns of centralized power and a lack of meaningful checks and balances. The current constitutional declaration represents a temporary and highly centralized framework for governance. It lacks a fully inclusive, people-driven Constitution and risks perpetuating a political system dominated by executive power. The question that remains is whether this document is the foundation of a new political order or simply another chapter in Syria's long history of authoritarian rule. Will the transitional period eventually give way to a more inclusive, democratic governance model, or will it entrench centralized power in the hands of the executive?

Samer Alnasir is a former associate professor of Legal History at the University of Carlos III of Madrid, and is currently an Independent Postdoctoral Scholar.

Suggested citation: Samer Alnasir, ‘From Revolution to Constitution-making: The Syrian People’s Struggle and Legal Ambiguity’, IACL-AIDC Blog (20 March 2025) From Revolution to Constitution-making: The Syrian People’s Struggle and Legal Ambiguity in the New Constitutional Declaration — IACL-IADC Blog