"Can a leopard change its spots?"

Crisis in Syria

The phrase "Can a leopard change its spots?" (Jeremiah 13:23)

This verse best captures the global skepticism surrounding Ahmed al-Sharaa, Syria’s interim president since Bashar al-Assad’s ouster in December 2024. As the former leader of Hay’at Tahrir al-Sham (HTS)—a Sunni Islamist group once tied to al-Qaeda before its 2017 rebranding—Sharaa, also known as Abu Mohammad al-Julani, now dons suits and pledges inclusivity.

Yet, many wonder: Has Syria swapped one tyrant for a more dangerous figure masked as a moderate? On March 10, 2025, defense ministry spokesperson Hassan Abdul Ghany declared a military operation’s end, neutralizing Assad loyalists in seven coastal sites like Latakia after an Alawite ambush killed 16 troops on March 6. The violence claimed over 1,400 lives, including 745 civilians (SOHR), sparking sectarian massacres targeting Alawites and Christians.

Al-Sharaa’s past associations with Hay’at Tahrir al-Sham (HTS), an extremist group, raise doubts about whether Jolani can break away from the oppressive legacy of Bashar al-Assad, especially given Syria's ongoing chaos following Assad's ousting.

This situation has become a moment of truth for al-Sharaa. Dressing in Western clothes does not necessarily equate to civilized leadership that respects human rights. Given the painful memories of October 7, 2023, when significant violence erupted in the region, the Israeli people and government are understandably anxious about developments in Syria, questioning whether al-Sharaa represents a new era or merely a continuation of past brutality.

There is an old story of a wanted outlaw who lost his brother, named Joe Smith, who was shot while attempting to rob a train. The grieving brother went to the local minister and ordered him, “Preacher, you had better say only good things about my brother, or else, I’m going ‘in to kill ya! The minister prepared his eulogy very carefully. On the day of the funeral, the preacher said: Joe Smith was a wanted bank robber; he acted with violence and brutality; he would literally steal candy from a baby!

He also assaulted innocent women; he was mean to animals, and he would snarl at kids coming out of Sunday School—The bank robber’s anger grew more intense by the minute.

“But,” observed the preacher, “Compared to his brother, Joe Smith was a saint!”

This moment reflects the idea that sometimes "the devil you know is better than the devil that you don’t know," underscoring how the familiarity of past leadership, even when violent, can seem more stable than the unpredictability of new rulers.

In Syria, the populace grapples with their own "devils," questioning whether al-Sharaa can genuinely safeguard the interests of diverse ethnic and religious communities—particularly Alawites and Christians who have faced increasing violence since the regime change. The uncertainty surrounding al-Sharaa’s governance evokes memories of the previous regime's brutalities, leaving many wary of what the new leadership will bring. It is no wonder why so many members of the Druze community in Syria wish to merge with Israel.

The Kurds and Christians in Syria have ample cause for anxiety amid the escalating violence and political upheaval following Bashar al-Assad’s ouster in December 2024, as their communities face existential threats in a rapidly shifting landscape. For the Kurds, who number around 2-3 million and are concentrated in northeastern Syria, the rise of Ahmed al-Sharaa’s interim government—backed by the Sunni Islamist Hay’at Tahrir al-Sham (HTS)—revives fears of marginalization and attack.

Having carved out semi-autonomous governance under the Syrian Democratic Forces (SDF) during the civil war, the Kurds thrived under U.S. support against ISIS, but HTS’s ascendancy, coupled with Turkey’s hostility toward Kurdish autonomy (viewing the SDF as linked to the PKK), jeopardizes their hard-won gains. Recent clashes and HTS’s jihadist roots stoke concerns of forced assimilation or ethnic cleansing, especially as Turkey-backed factions gain ground.

Christians, meanwhile, now reduced to about 300,000 from a pre-war 5-6% of Syria’s population, tremble under the shadow of sectarian reprisals. Once protected by Assad’s secular regime, they now face targeted violence—reports from GB News and the Syrian Observatory for Human Rights cite massacres in coastal areas like Latakia, with some Christians killed alongside Alawites in the chaos since March 6, 2025. HTS’s Islamist leanings fuel dread that their communities, already decimated by war, could be further eroded or expelled. Both groups, historically resilient yet vulnerable minorities, see in Syria’s current turmoil—over 1,400 dead in days, a fragile government, and international jostling—a perilous uncertainty.

As the Syrian interim government navigates escalating violence while seeking international legitimacy, it faces the daunting task of proving to citizens and the global community alike that it can rise above the mistakes of the past.

The intertwining of historical narratives and current leadership will ultimately shape the discourse on whether this new administration is simply a rebranded continuation of past oppression or a genuine opportunity for reconciliation and renewal in a war-torn nation. In evaluating Syria's future, the prevailing question is whether the current leadership can embody the principles of inclusivity and respect for human rights, thus determining if the leopard can, indeed, change its spots.

The world will be watching very carefully.