Listen up, because I’m about to drag the curtain back on another act in Syria’s never-ending theater of the absurd. The headlines read like a bad rerun you can’t turn off: “Several killed in sectarian clashes near Damascus.” And who’s surprised? Not me. Not you. Certainly not the folks in power who treat sectarian bloodshed like a seasonal inconvenience—like potholes in the spring or fireworks on New Year’s.
This latest burst of chaos erupted near Damascus, that ancient city turned pressure cooker where civil jabs become artillery rounds before breakfast. Residents were jolted awake not by the call to prayer, but by the staccato beat of gunfire and the telltale thud of something much deadlier than words: sectarian tension, now with a body count.
Syrian security forces—those loyal lapdogs of the Assad dynasty—were deployed to “restore calm.” Spoiler alert: calm isn’t a word that Syria has seen since flip phones were a thing. Think about it. It’s like sending a flamethrower to put out a campfire. These guys don’t do “calm”—they do crackdowns, curfews, and calculated selective silence.
But let’s not sip the state-sponsored Kool-Aid. This isn’t just another “we’re-working-on-peace” press release wrapped in bulletproof lies. This is power politics 101, where sectarian divisions aren’t accidents—they’re assets. They’re what despots export when they run fresh out of oil and allies. Stir up a little local chaos, position yourself as the only “stabilizing” force left, and—voilà!—international legitimation, straight from the Beltway to the Kremlin.
And let’s not forget: this kind of mess is never just local. Sparking violence near Damascus is like throwing lit matches in a fireworks factory. The flames stretch into Lebanon, Turkey, Iran, and beyond, igniting proxy passions like it’s a regional sport. Shia against Sunni, ideology against identity—all dressed up in the geopolitical tuxedos of Russia, Iran, and the good ol’ USA.
They say history repeats itself. I say in Syria, history doesn’t just repeat—it remix-drops the same damn track with a few more explosive beats. Everyone’s playing DJ, but the people? They’re the ones dancing in the dark—with no power, no water, no hope.
So, when the headlines report “security forces deployed,” let’s translate that for the uninitiated: The regime is reasserting control, not for peace—but for optics. The Assad regime’s idea of peace is when everyone’s afraid to speak, sleep, or sneeze too loud.
And to the international community dusting off their diplomatic statements? Save it. Condemning violence in Syria has all the impact of apologizing to a hurricane—it doesn’t change the weather. If you really wanted peace, you’d stop treating the Middle East like your personal chessboard and actually put your money where your mouth is.
Until then, the beat goes on—and it’s playing to a rhythm of rubble, repression, and regret.
The game’s on, and as always…I play to win.
– Mr. 47
