‘Loyalism’ as masculinist identity politics: navigating the use of symbolic discourse in the Syrian war

ABSTRACT

The question of how Syria’s Baathist regime has managed to maintain its domination or hegemony over much of the country’s populace under conditions of extended violence is an ongoing one. Its influence is evident in the apparently uncoerced public demonstrations of support for Bashar al-Assad that have regularly occurred over the decade since the outbreak of the conflict in 2011. In this article I focus on the ideological aspects of this loyalist support and present an analysis that emphasises masculinism as a central aspect of the regime’s strategy to consolidate and maintain political power. While other analyses have described the influence of sectarianism, regional rivalries, patronage networks and securitisation as contributing factors in authoritarian survival in Syria, the gendered dimensions of Bashar al-Assad’s hold on power have received less scrutiny. The broader study of links between militarisation, nationalism and masculinism has much to offer in expanding our understanding of the persistence of Syrian Baathist loyalism.

KEYWORD:

• loyalism

Introduction

In 2021, as Bashar Al-Assad stood for a new presidential term, scenes of regime loyalists symbolically voting ‘yes’ with their blood captured widespread attention on social media and in Syria's news outlets. This spectacle, emblematic of a deeper political phenomenon, underscores how concepts of love and devotion – abstracted from genuine personal relationships and magnified to all-encompassing extents – are interwoven with rigid gender roles and insider/outsider dynamics, crafting an irrational political affinity. This affinity is less about civic engagement or material pragmatism and, at its core, more about identity preservation. The ‘love’ professed between the leader and his populace is not marked by tolerance for dissent or diversity, nor gauged by the standards of civic rights and governmental accountability. Instead, it is imagined as eternal, involuntary and sacrosanct, subject to the fluctuating whims and impulses of power dynamics. This spectacle of allegiance is not an isolated incident of Syrian politics but rather epitomises a strategy that the Baath regime has methodically cultivated over five decades. Such emotionally charged displays of loyalty have been systematically utilised to reinforce the regime’s authoritarian grip, showcasing how entrenched and deliberate this practice of intertwining personal devotion with political allegiance has become in Syria’s political landscape.

As such, over the last fifty years, the Baath regime has cultivated a reputation for orchestrating and mandating performative spectacles, such as massive marches where throngs of loyalists flood squares and streets, vocally professing their adoration for the leader. In such an environment, discerning genuine loyalty or belief from mere public displays of allegiance becomes challenging. However, authoritarian regimes like the Baath extend beyond the realm of material coercion, employing sophisticated strategies to capture the hearts and minds of their subjects. These tactics are not just about enforcing authority but also about weaving a narrative that entwines the regime’s survival with the national and individual identity of its subjects, thus blurring the lines between enforced loyalty and genuine allegiance. Since the 1970s, the regime has placed an emphasis on generating public excitement and enthusiasm for the Baath Party and its leadership. The Party created festivals and holidays, such as the annual celebration of the March 8th Revolution, marking the date when Hafez al-Assad carried out his 1963 coup to seize power in Syria. The Party also changed street names and other forms of public signage to reinforce its propaganda. The two primary Baathist youth organisations, the Syrian National Organisation for Childhood (Tala'i’ al-Ba'ath) and the Syrian Revolutionary Youth Union (al-Shabiba) were formed to mobilise children, indoctrinate them with concepts of Party loyalty, and introduce them to paramilitary concepts. These organisations have been central in staging party rallies and dramatic torch-lit parades to demonstrate public support. As I will discuss in more detail in this article, all of these hegemony-building activities have been facilitated by the use of nationalist songs saturated with emotive attachment to the nation and its leader.

A great deal of scholarly literature in the political science field has examined the nature and formation of authoritarian institutions. The majority of this scholarship focuses on material coercion and the actions of ruling elites (Beissinger and Kotkin 2014, p. 22). These issues are undoubtedly important for understanding the rise and sustainability of authoritarianism, but it is also important to consider how socialisation is propagated under these regimes, and the ground-level impact of political spectacle on citizens’ behaviours and attitudes. To the extent that such questions have been analysed in the Syrian context, scholars often fall back on reductive notions of sect, ethnicity and patronage as an explanatory framework for the country’s power dynamics (Abdo 2017, Dukhan 2019, Hinnebusch 2020, p. 140). Departing from such customary lenses (Aldoughli et al. 2023, p. 4), this article invites a rethinking of the logic of loyalty in Syria in regard to the basic ideological question of, ‘why does Bashar al-Assad have supporters?’ In the following sections I emphasise the relatively overlooked issue of gender politics in the Syrian political context, examining how the regime’s rhetoric and loyalist support foregrounds and reinscribes a romanticised view of patriarchal privilege. These masculinised identity politics, I argue, provide much of the ‘glue’ that has allowed loyalist support for the regime to continue cohering after more than a decade of brutality and war.

A common argument in studies of public attitudes toward civil liberties is that education and political communication influence the level of citizens’ support for such political norms (Key 1961, pp. 340–341). This dynamic model of exposure and acceptance is intimately linked to the process of socialisation, and it can be applied to authoritarian contexts as well as democratic ones. Some studies have shown that regimes seek to link their preferred political narratives to other values held by the populace (e.g., gender norms), which can help to promote regime legitimisation and acceptance among broad swaths of the population (Zaller 1987, Dryer 1971). As such, these broader values become conceptually linked not only to a general political philosophy, but also to a specific Party or leadership tradition. Such arguments are conceptually convincing, though it is often difficult to empirically study the impact of such rhetoric in authoritarian regimes, since the usual methods of surveys and interviews cannot be considered reliable when people may be afraid to state their sincerely held views or to voice political criticism. It is also very difficult to gauge the long-term impact of the partisan re-inscription of societal norms, since it is unknown how such norms may have fared in alternative political environments. In this analysis, I take a textual approach to examine how gendered indoctrination and socialisation have been used by the Syrian regime, and how current propaganda efforts seek to leverage these gendered associations. The analysis shows how feelings toward the regime are linked to ideologies of romanticised masculinism, both positively among loyalists and negatively by the opposition (see Aldoughli 2023; Aldoughli et al. 2024b).

While it is undoubtedly true that political loyalty in the Syrian context is influenced by coercion, fear and material benefits, these aspects of Syrian loyalism have been already well-studied by other scholars (Abboud 2018). What is less documented is how the authoritarian regime has leveraged a reinvigorated masculinist identity politics as a means to establish heartfelt, affective, passionate loyalty among its supporters. This masculinism as regime propaganda is not a novel outcome of the current war. It has been a significant presence in Syrian political culture since at least the 1970s, when it served most especially as a means of building bridges among Syria’s diverse religious and ethnic communities (Aldoughli 2017, 2019a, 2019b, 2021, 2022a). Since the start of the conflict, however, this rhetoric has become more emotive and pronounced, as the features and prospects of masculinism are discursively tied to the existential survival of the Assad regime.

While other analyses have described the influence of sectarianism, regional rivalries, patronage networks and securitisation as contributing factors to the recent authoritarian survival in Syria (Hashemi and Postel 2017), the gendered dimensions of Bashar al-Assad’s hold on power have received less scrutiny. The broader study of links between militarisation, nationalism and masculinism has much to offer in expanding our understanding of the persistence of Syrian Ba’athist loyalism. In this article, loyalism is defined as a political and social allegiance deeply rooted in gendered identity politics, particularly masculinism. In the Syrian context, loyalism is not just a matter of political affiliation or allegiance to the Ba'athist regime; it is a constructed identity that intertwines nationalistic fervour with a specific form of masculinity. This masculinist loyalism is cultivated through state narratives and symbols that valorise martial virtues, strength and authority, which are traditionally associated with masculinity.

In viewing these Syrian nationalist ideologies through the lens of masculinism, it is important to avoid overly reductive or simplified views of gender. It needs to be stated that this article addresses only one particular type of masculine identity, and that such identities are often intersectional, overlapping and contradictory. Nonetheless, it is possible when viewing the gendered rhetoric of regime loyalism in Syria to trace a persistent and widespread concept of masculinity grounded in ideals of martial valour, heroism and social dominance, and to discuss the impact of this concept in shaping political identity and behaviours. Masculinist identity politics refers to the use of political strategies and narratives that emphasise and prioritise traditional masculine values, traits and roles to shape and maintain social and political power structures. This form of identity politics valorises characteristics associated with masculinity – such as strength, dominance, authority and aggression. In discussing this form of masculinism I draw from well-established critiques of ‘the logic of masculinist protection’ and its expression in patriarchal governance, chivalry and warfare (Young 2003, pp. 2–4). In the crudest sense, such outlooks conflate the affirmation of a socially powerful masculine identity with the action of killing for the nation’s leader. I also emphasise the ways in which this gendered logic is ensnared in romantic (often erotic) narrative fantasies about ‘love’ and ‘sacrifice’ for the passive, objectified nation that is viewed as being under one’s protection.

In this article, I undertake a detailed examination of eight nationalist songs that surged in popularity among regime loyalists from 2012 to 2020. These songs, pivotal in loyalist cultural discourse, serve as empirical evidence to explore embedded symbols and gender concepts, delineating their influence on the political identity landscape within Syria. My analysis is primarily textual, focusing on lyrics, to unpack the ideological and cultural narratives they convey. This deliberate choice excludes the musical, performance and aesthetic aspects of the songs to concentrate on the linguistic and thematic content. The selection criteria for these songs hinges on their widespread acclaim and influence in the Syrian loyalist milieu, encompassing diverse political, ideological, religious and sectarian groups. Their prominence is underscored by extensive viewership on platforms like YouTube – a primary medium for media consumption in Syria – and frequent airplay on loyalist television channels, including Sama TV, al-Dunniya TV and Syria TV.

Contrasting with pre-2011 state-sponsored nationalist songs, the chosen tracks from the specified period lack definitive authorship and are not performed by renowned celebrities. Typically, the creators and performers remain obscure, with their work often characterised by fluid authorship – lyrics are rehashed across different songs, and compositions undergo variations in arrangement, performance and presentation. This fluidity presents a challenge in pinpointing the original source or creator, reflecting a trend of prolific adaptation and modification within the loyalist cultural sphere. This ambiguity in authorship and the prevalent practice of recycling content underscores a shift from the regime’s direct cultural productions to a more grassroots level of cultural expression among loyalists. While the regime under Bashar Al-Assad may still influence these cultural outputs, the dynamics of their dissemination suggest a shift towards a more participatory form of nationalist expression. The content's adaptability and its enthusiastic reception and reshaping by the loyalist community suggest a form of modern ‘astroturfing’ that has effectively resonated with and been propagated by regime supporters. This phenomenon not only highlights the regime's persistent cultural footprint but also signifies a complex layer of identity construction, where these songs act as vehicles for reinforcing and negotiating loyalist identity in Syria’s evolving socio-political landscape.

These nationalist songs pose complex and relevant questions about how the process of socialisation shapes cultural production, political attitudes and loyalty. What does the production of these songs post-2011 tell us about the internal dynamics of authoritarian regimes and its subjects? What do these songs tell us about the formation of subjectivity and the internalisation of authoritarian-imposed narratives of the contours of belonging and identity? How do we theorise romantic masculinity in cultural production that shapes identity politics and belonging? In the current Syrian context, such questions are underpinned by a sharp sense of what the French philosopher Pierre Bourdieu termed symbolic violence and the habitus. Theoretically speaking, it is not possible to create a quick shift or a radical change in the dispositions of individuals that would affect their practices, perceptions and attitudes and change the rules of competition in the market. Habitus is ‘a set of dispositions which incline agents to act and react in a certain way’ (Bourdieu 1990, p. 12).

Reorganising its teleological functions, this article approaches symbolic violence as a constitutive process of ordering over cultural space. By adopting a Bourdieuian framework, this article sheds light on how the interaction between imposed political culture and subjects enables us to contextualise forms of cultural and political ordering in the Syrian context. The ordering process in the authoritarian context carries with it questions about patterns of discursive legitimation, logic of loyalty and production of subjectivity. In terms of ordering the subject, this article takes Bourdieu’s concept of power as the ability to construct political boundaries, as he states: ‘the power of making divisions is the political power par excellence’ (Bourdieu 1990, p. 138). The application of the Bordieuian ‘common sense’ (Bourdieu 1990) conceptualises order as a process in which subjects take positions conditioned by their range of possible practices. Within this context, one may ask whether indoctrination and process of socialisation is enough to explain why agents behave the way they do. Why were these songs produced post 2011? Were their creators pressured by the regime? Or are they manifestations of subjects’ agency and political loyalty?

Another important aspect of my analysis is the role of symbols in maintaining loyalist identities and supporting regime survival. Graeme Gill & Luis F. Angosto-Ferrandez significantly argue that the creation of symbolic discourse is shaped by ‘multivocality’, where competition over who determines the symbolic order became a site of contention (2018, p. 430).

Michael Billig (1995) and David A. Butz (2009) have written extensively about how symbols can mark national boundaries of inclusion and exclusion, helping to identify the lives and practices that are considered legitimate. To some extent, as I describe below, Bashar al-Assad has intentionally made himself into the ultimate symbol of masculinist power and loyalty, existing alongside other symbols of the regime such as flags and insignia. I emphasise in the following sections how these symbols are continuously circulated in nationalist songs and rhetoric in loyalist circles to reinforce the emotional resonance and personal impact of certain masculine ideals. After giving a brief overview of the historical influence of masculinist nationalism in Ba’athist Syria, I focus on a close analysis of seven nationalist songs that were wildly popular among regime loyalists from 2012 to 2020. These texts provide an empirical grounding for discussing the symbols and gender concepts that are prevalent in loyalist discourses and their role in shaping the contours of political identity.

Setting common language on conceptual constructs: masculinity and nationalism in Baathist Syria

There are many studies grounded in feminist perspectives that have analysed the gendered aspects of nationalism in various global contexts (Bracewell 2000, Enloe 1990, McClintock 1991, 1995, Mayer 1994). For example, McClintock argued that ‘all nationalisms are gendered, all are invented, and all are dangerous’ (1991, pp. 104–105). Bracewell suggested that there is ‘a straightforward equation between male interests, masculinity, and nationalism’ (2000, p. 566; Aldoughli 2023); while Enloe argued that nationalism has ‘typically sprung from masculinized memory, masculinized humiliation, and masculinized hope’ (1990, p. 45). The precise definition of masculinity that is critiqued in such literature, however, may need further elucidation. As various commentators have pointed out, masculinity as well as femininity does not have a universal form or origin (Connell 1995, Reeser 2010).

This article delves into the intricate interplay between masculinity and political power in Syrian society, specifically under the Baathist regime. It is not an exhaustive inventory of the myriad manifestations of masculinity in Syria, nor does it simplistically attribute all expressions of masculinism to nationalist fervour. Rather, the focus is on dissecting how the regime has co-opted and disseminated certain traditional models of masculinity to cement the nexus between patriarchal norms and political loyalty. In exploring this dynamic, the article clarifies and theorises key gender-related concepts, particularly masculinity and femininity, viewed here as social ideologies and expressive behaviours shaped through continuous cultural practice (Reeser 2010, p. 18). These gender performances, often perceived as innate, are actually highly contingent, varying across different societal segments and personal experiences. While not inherently state-driven, these gender paradigms are frequently harnessed for political purposes, revealing the deep-seated interconnection between gender norms and state machinery (Moi 2002, p. 180).

The regime’s exploitation of these gender constructs, particularly masculinism, is not arbitrary but deeply strategic, aligning with broader political objectives. This exploration necessitates a nuanced understanding of how masculinism, while broadly reflecting a privileging of certain male behaviours, manifests in diverse ways, influenced by class, ethnicity and locality (Connell 1995). In the Syrian context, masculinism crystallises around an idealised male figure characterised by unwavering regime loyalty, martial prowess, and a capacity for violence and self-sacrifice. This construct not only glorifies specific male roles within the nationalist narrative but also inscribes a competitive hierarchical order among men, delineating superior and inferior masculinities based on adherence to these valorised traits (Hooper 2001, p. 33). Hence, in this analysis, ‘masculinism’ is defined as a culturally and politically weaponised form of masculinity that promotes an aggressive, dominant male identity integral to the regime's ideological and operational framework.

The concepts of masculinity that I and other scholars of nationalism have critiqued are strongly characterised by militarism, which entails the glorification of manliness, martial prowess and heroism on the battlefield. Even within this relatively narrow constraint, we can still find many contradictions and complexities – for example, militarised masculinities are known to prize ‘dominance, assertiveness, aggressiveness, independence, self-sufficiency, and willingness to take risks’ (Morris 1996, p. 701, Aldoughli et al. 2023, pp. 13–14), but they also emphasise concepts of sacrifice, teamwork, self-control and care for those who are seen as under one’s protection (Titunik 2008, p. 140). These diverse masculine ideals may often exist in tension with one another, leading to complex constructs such as ‘tough and tender soldiers’, ‘nanny masculinity’, and ‘muscular humanitarianism’ (Yuval-Davis 1997, p. 111). One consistent feature that they share, however, in addition to positively valuing the capacity for violence, is that they are privileged and hierarchical identities. Those who embrace militarised masculinity expect to receive deference, respect, material benefits and political power as a result of embodying or celebrating this concept. For those who embrace the construct, men and women who are unable, unwilling to or uninterested in demonstrating competitive martial prowess are regarded as less deserving of affection, wealth and power (Nagel 1998, pp. 248–249). This brings me to the concept of ‘irrational masculinity’, which centres on idolising the male body as an entity ready to sacrifice and kill for the nation and its leader (Aldoughli 2023; Aldoughli et al. 2024a). As such, the analysis of this term focuses on how the shaping of the body politic has been around perpetuating an ethos of militarised masculinism, which results in constructing national belonging as existentially attached to willingness to die for the nation. At the same time, terms such as ‘stubborn masculinity’ in the context of Syrian politics refers to a form of hyper-masculine behaviour characterised by an unwavering commitment to power and control, often at the expense of rationality. It manifests as a relentless pursuit of strength, dominance and unwavering loyalty to the regime, where any sign of dissent or vulnerability is vehemently rejected and vilified.

Nationalism often serves as a complementary construct to privileged militaristic masculinity, particularly when the national ideal emphasises the need to forcefully control territory. Martial power is almost always a feature of nationalist ideological constructs, and the image of the manly defender of the nation is extremely widespread globally (Banerjee 2016). These two constructs feed off each other, as military actions provide much of the material power of the nation, and the nation in turn provides the expected affirmation and rewards for those who embody militaristic masculinity (Enloe 1990, Jayawardena 1986, McClintock 1995, Yuval-Davis 1997). As Balaji and Hughson have argued, the ‘cultural production of masculinity has long been tied to nationalistic subtexts’ (2014, p. 207). This broader social condition, in which a particular type of privileged, militarised masculinity is supported by the state and by the overall political culture, is the ideology that I refer to as masculinism.

Symbolic authoritarian survival and performativity in the Syrian context

Scholars have increasingly recognised the importance of performances and imagery in consolidating national identities. For example, Anthony Smith emphasised the ‘continuous reproduction . . . of values, symbols, memories, myths, and traditions that compose the distinctive heritage of nations’ (2001, p. 18). Stuart Hall famously argued that nations are ‘symbolic communities’; while Anne McClintock characterised nations as, ‘elaborate social practices enacted through time, laboriously fabricated through the media . . . [and] the myriad forms of popular culture’ (1995, p. 18). Symbols such as flags, catchphrases and recognisable images have frequently played an important role in consolidating the abstract idea of the nation into an accessible practice for mass consumption, resulting in a kind of intervention or adjustment in the cultural practices of a community. Unfortunately, such symbols may frequently reinforce destructive or unjust forms of behaviour, heighten in-group boundaries, and enshrine social hierarchies that position certain individuals or groups as less valuable than others.

Baathist Syria is an especially interesting case for analysing the role of nationalist performances and symbolism in relation to the politics of domination, authority and coercion. Since it is effectively a one-party state, and since the regime views loyalty to the Baath Party as indistinguishable from belonging to the nation as a cultural entity, the shaping of nationalist culture in Syria has been a profoundly top-down affair. The Party has long tasked state agencies with the goal of overt cultural and political indoctrination, and it has taken a strong interest in the creation and dissemination of nationalist discourse through media, educational institutions and a variety of required public performances. As Wedeen notes, ‘the power of the Syrian state resides not only in its ability to control material resources and to construct institutions of punishment, but also in its ability to manage the symbolic world’ (1999, p. 32). This ideological management takes specific forms in the Syrian context, one of which is the production and enforced performance of song. While some aspects of these nationalist performance might be generalisable or similar across different global regions, it is important to note that the ways these ideas play out are always local to each national culture and subculture. Thus, in my analysis I do not mean to suggest a universal theory of nationalist song; such interpretation will need to be left to a broader comparative study. Instead, I focus specifically on presenting the ways in which certain concepts of gender were inscribed by the Baathist regime in their lyrical propaganda efforts, and how these ideas affected Syrians in our everyday lives.

Song can be a powerful means of disseminating cultural outlooks and symbols, particularly when people are required to memorise and perform the songs in a group setting. Carolyn Birdsall has argued that ‘nationalistic songs and national anthems . . . are particularly useful for propaganda, given their ability to harness feelings of optimism and belonging’ (2012, p. 42). Shared musical performances are widely recognised for their ability to induce experiences of social solidarity, in democratic as well as authoritarian contexts (Hung 1996, pp. 903–905). Recognising this, the Syrian Baathists placed a strong emphasis on reiterating their nationalist vision and communicating its symbols through the repetition of song. One central locus in which citizens interacted with the Syrian nationalist songs discussed in this article was in educational settings, where essentially all schoolchildren were compelled to learn and perform them for frequent celebratory events and national holidays. Before every national event, schoolchildren would have weeks of training after school. This was mandatory for all children during primary school.

In the Syrian context, the construction of national identity in edited and planned songs was fully premeditated by Party leaders. We know this because officials representing the Party and its Shabibet al-Thawra youth wing would enforce these rituals on all schools. There was weekly training at which officials would be present to ensure that all preparation for national events are going well. Thus, these songs can readily be characterised as purposeful regime propaganda, even if some aspects of their spread may have occurred organically in Syrian society. When analysing the songs, I draw on Nickolas Shaughnessy’s framework of propaganda as the intentional manipulation of three salient concepts: ‘rhetoric’, ‘symbolism’, and ‘myth’ (2004, pp. 4–6). In the rhetorical sense, the song lyrics were intended to persuade and inspire the public with a vision of desirable ideas, behaviours and attitudes, largely derived from the writings of the Baathist founders (see Aldoughli 2016). In regard to symbols, the songs frequently foregrounded references to imagery that was familiar to Syrians from other state ceremonies and wider culture, such as the flag, sword, eagle, and so forth, which are explained in more detail below. By linking these symbols together with a repetition of meaning and emotional valence, the songs participated in an intertextual discourse that reinforced and expanded participants’ sense of identification with the Baathist ideology. Finally, in the sense of myth, the songs frequently served to establish vague historical narratives, usually incorporating some type of strong, vigorous man protecting the nation in a violent fashion (Buch et al. 2016, pp. 9–10). As we will see, these ‘foundational myths’ of Baathist cultural propaganda closely intertwined men’s heroism, muscularity, and social authority with the origins and continuation of the Syrian national community.

It is important to distinguish between different possible reactions to the inscription of authoritarian ideologies, which may range from extreme identification to subversion to overt resistance. In her early work, for example, Lisa Wedeen emphasised the distinction between sincere loyalty and ritualistic performance in the pre-2011 Syrian context, arguing that ‘citizens in Syria are not required to believe the cult’s flagrantly fictitious statements and, as a rule, do not. But they act as if they do’ (1998, p. 506). She further concludes that the ‘effects of Assad’s cult, although powerful, are also ambiguous . . . [the appearance of loyalty] demonstrates only that people are able and can be brought to recite the slogans’ (1998, p. 521). By focusing on the role of coercion, Wedeen leaves little room for analysing the internalisation of such regime-sponsored ideologies. After the outbreak of civil war in 2011, however, it has become less possible to believe that declarations of regime loyalty are purely staged.

In her second, post-2011, book on Syrian politics, Wedeen gives greater credence to ‘political ambivalence’ and the internalised fantasy of a stable and orderly society that some individuals may believe is obtainable through loyalism. As a result, Wedeen argues, many Syrians find themselves as adopting a ‘neutral’ or ‘grey’ (ramady) position to retain access to material benefits, or even becoming fervent loyalists who support Assad as an emblem of the secure society. Thus, in Wedeen’s estimation, Syrians’ identities lurch between ‘desires for reform and their attachment to order’ (2018, p. viii), as individuals react to the glamorous, stable and modern image of the nation presented by Assad (2018, p. 27). While there is much to commend in this analysis, I suggest that it retains too much emphasis on material aspirations, while minimising the affective and identity-oriented dimensions of loyalist support.

Against this backdrop, this article draws from Judith Butler’s analyses of gender as a performative display and a profound locus of symbolic political action. According to Butler, gender categories are fundamentally shaped by political discourse and by repetitive social action (Butler 1993, p. 95; 112; 232). From such a perspective, we would expect that participation in endless loyalist spectacles under the Baathist hegemony could not help but have an impact on subjective experiences and outlooks. I argue that Syrian subjects in Syria have been pervasively exposed to a political culture that discursively glorifies sacrifice, manliness and heroism, and that such experiences have a strong and meaningful impact on the shape of the current conflict. Adopting Butler’s theorisation of the production of gendered life as ‘foreclosed by certain habitual and violent presumptions’ (1999, p. viii), this analysis is based on the view that the development of Syria as a modern nation-state under the Baathists has instilled a performative and internalised link between masculinism and regime loyalty. In my previous research I have discussed the foundations of militarism and masculinism in Baathist Syria prior to the current war, and highlighted how this masculinised national ideology was linked to the subordination of women (Aldoughli 2019a, pp. 58–60). The current article extends these perspectives to evaluate how the regime has ‘harvested’ the legacy of masculinist identifications to survive through the current conflict, by drawing on constructs such as heroic male violence, killing for the nation, and defending the honour of the nation.

Rather than emphasising the metaphysical autonomy or internality of subjects, Butler prioritises social discourse and performance as the origin of action; in other words, gender is ‘not a doing by a subject who might be said to pre-exist the deed’ (1993, p. 25). This perspective complicates the view of the relationship between authoritarian power and subjective response; in the context of Syria it requires, at a minimum, that we give more attention to the impact of public performance in shaping political affiliations and the contours of the conflict. Butler’s analysis is also extremely useful in the Syrian context in that she emphasises the dynamics of passionate attachment and the psychological or affective aspects of power (1993, pp. 2–7). My outlook combines this perspective with scholarship on political legitimisation, which Butler defines as a system’s ability to persuade members of its own appropriateness. This places a strong emphasis on the role of symbols and performances in shaping citizens’ internalised behaviours and subjective experiences. Performative rituals and scripted behaviours can also be viewed as communications between a governing regime and the population, through which legitimised actions and subjectivities are reinforced. I argue that the role of romanticised masculinism in loyalist texts and performances (as well as oppositional performances critiquing or rejecting these constructs) is vital to understanding the entrenched nature of the Syrian conflict and its far-reaching political dimensions.

The use of songs as political discourse

Since the formation of Syria as a nation its patriotic discourses have consistently reinforced a particular masculine ideal: the soldier-citizen who is heroic, tough and willing to sacrifice and kill for the preservation of the state (Aldoughli 2023; Aldoughli et al. 2024a, 2024b). However, this ideal has undergone a decided transformation and hardening over the years. In the early emergence of Syrian nationalist thought (c. 1940–1970) concepts of militarism and masculinism were propagated within a broadly revolutionary, philosophical and anti-colonial spirit (Aldoughli 2016, 2017). During the subsequent regime of Hafez Al-Assad (1971–2000) these ideas collapsed into an authoritarian personality cult that retained and exacerbated all of the troubling militaristic aspects of the nationalist movement while enacting few of its positive communitarian goals (Aldoughli 2019a, 2019b, Dukhan 2019).

Concerned with the persistence of pre-existing religious and ethnic identities within Syria, which he viewed as a threat to the state, Hafez Al-Assad pursued an increasingly strict and homogenising concept of national loyalty (Aldoughli 2021, 2022b, 2022c). During the 1980s and 1990s, up to the year 2000, Syrian children under Hafez al-Assad’s rule were forced in elementary school to memorise and perform nationalist songs and slogans that glorified martial loyalty, sacrifice and the dissolution of one’s own identity into the service of the state. These songs were a conscious, premediated effort on the part of the regime to shape citizens’ perspectives and to promote a broad acceptance of Baathist political ideals. Education in Syria under Baathism was specifically intended to create conditioned responses (Aldoughli et al. 2023a). To overcome the difficulty of ruling a multi-ethnic and multi-sectarian populace, the regime constructed an illusionary ‘blood bond’ among Syrians, and used educational and civic institutions to impress upon the youth that fanatical loyalty to the nation was a requirement of belonging and honour. The construction of these discourses was highly gendered, emphasising the agency of men and the supportive admiration of women (Aldoughli 2019a, 2019b). The singing of such nationalist songs was mandated not only in the schools, but also during officially organised mass demonstrations, and displays of nationalist loyalty were performed live on television every morning. Thus, for several decades Syrians grew up amid constant, enforced discursive repetitions of terms such as ‘heroic men’ (’abtaal, bwasil, ‘sud), ‘killing for the nation’ (Sūrya bi ldam mnḥmīha; Sūrya bi dami bfdīha; al-ruḥ la Sūrya; mnʾtel l Sūrya), and ‘protecting the honour of the nation’ (sharafi; ʿrdī). The agency of women was largely invisible in such performances, other than as grateful admirers who supported and affirmed the heroic deeds of loyal men.

Despite initial hopes that Bashar Al-Assad would prove to be less authoritarian than his father, the period of his rule (2000 – present) has been marked by a continuation of state resistance to personal freedoms, culminating in the 2011 Syrian uprisings and the subsequent civil war. During this conflict, the nationalist rhetoric of the Ba’athists became more contested, with many demonstrators specifically singling out nationalist songs and slogans as an object of their distaste (Aldoughli 2022a, 2022b). Meanwhile, however, loyalist factions in Syria continued to reproduce and circulate such discourses, with an increasing edge of anger and fear (Aldoughli 2022d). Given the near-total breakdown of civic institutions in Syria over the past decade, the continuation of nationalist songs and loyalist demonstrations during this period has to be understood at least in part as an ideological echo of nationalism ‘from below’. These actions cannot be explained in purely materialistic or coercive terms, as their proponents generally receive little pragmatic reward for such enthusiastic displays.

Instead, I argue, they represent a continuation of the gendered and politicised psychological identity matrixes into which many loyalists were inducted during their formative years. The sheer repetitiveness of these songs’ lyrics (as I show in more detail below) and their emphasis on the stock images of the omnipresent, adored leader, the heroic male soldier, and the romantic glory attained through dedication to the cause, present an almost desperate effort to reinscribe privileged identities that are under threat in a time of social conflict. Lisa Wedeen (1999) has argued convincingly and accurately that participation in Syrian regime rituals during periods of social hegemony should not be regarded as a sincere sign of acceptance or loyalty. However, the continuation and heightening of such displays during the recent period of civil conflict indicates that many individuals truly internalised the previously mandated rhetoric and continue to view it as central to their sense of identity and belonging.

The Syrian uprising marks a turning point in the construction of nationhood in the Syrian psyche, as after this point the cultural reproduction of Ba’athist nationalist narratives can no longer feasibly be considered as a mandated response to overwhelming authority. This period is marked by the liberation of bottom-up agency, in which cultural production has a clarifying effect on the agenda of those participating (Aldoughli 2023; Aldoughli et al. 2024a, 2024b), see also Andrews 1997, p. 280). For example, in the early days of the uprisings, one of the most remarkable chants widely heard among protestors was: ‘We don’t love you; We don’t love you! . . . Go away with your party!’ It might be surprising to outside observers why so many Syrians chose to express their opposition to the regime in these terms. In fact, this opposition chant was taken from the rhythm of a widely popular patriotic song, ‘Minhibbak’ (We Love You), which was produced under the regime in 2007 during Bashar al-Assad’s campaign for a presidential referendum. The oppositional attempt to co-opt and alter this song’s lyrics demonstrates an active engagement with nationalist discourses (Aldoughli 2022a, 2022c, 2022d). In the same fashion, however, songs and other patriotic displays produced by regime loyalists after 2011 must also be perceived as demonstrations of agency, which in this case are targeted toward the re-inscription of challenged identities.

In the following sections I discuss how the concept of privileged, militaristic masculine identity was expressed in nationalistic songs popular among regime loyalists in Syria between 2011 and 2020. In emphasising ideals such as martial heroism, men as protectors, and devoted sacrifice, these songs show the continuing link between Syrian nationalist loyalty and claims to privileged gender identity. Moreover, they demonstrate the re-inscription of hierarchy by frequently portraying resistors and protestors (both men and women) as undeserving, emasculated, weak, disloyal, unlovable and cowardly. Selection of the songs analysed here is based on their popularity and prevalence in Syrian loyalist culture, as demonstrated by the number of views on YouTube (one of the primary forms of media consumption in Syria) and broadcasts on loyalist TV channels.

Unlike pre-2011 nationalist songs, which were usually officially sponsored, recorded and distributed by the regime, these recent exemplars have no clear authorship. They are not sung by notable celebrities; in most cases the singers and authors remain unknown and are not regarded as particularly important in the surrounding media discussions. Lyrics are frequently lifted from one song and inserted into another, and closely similar songs appear with varied arrangements, singers, instrumentation, videos and performance contexts. When reviewing this material, I found it quite difficult to trace the variations back to a particular origin or author, as the extensive recycling makes it nearly impossible to identify who first produced the songs. It may be possible that Bashar Al-Assad’s regime has played some role in instigating or supporting aspects of this cultural production, but the spread and popularity of the content and its constant reworking in loyalist media cannot be attributed to top-down coercion. If some of these loyalist videos are a product of a modern ‘astroturfing’ campaign, then it is a highly successful one in the sense that the content has been eagerly adopted, adapted, modified and spread by regime supporters.

I have divided the songs into two sections: first, those that emphasise the role of the soldier as a venerated and privileged protector, and second, those that emphasise the duty of the soldier to support his comrades and leaders (most notably, Bashar Al-Assad). This largely follows the tensions within militarised masculinity discussed above – ideals of aggressive, self-glorifying heroism combined with duty and self-sacrificing loyalty. Such a division is somewhat artificial, since nearly all of the songs include elements of both themes, but the organisation serves as a means of discussing these separate emphases within the Syrian masculinist construct.

Songs of glory

One of the most common themes found in Syrian loyalist songs during the civil war years is the glorification of the masculine soldier as an honoured protector of the nation and its people. While this theme is also common in pre-2011 Syrian nationalist songs (as well as similar patriotic rhetoric worldwide), during the war these songs began to place an ever-increasing emphasis on the masculinity of the heroes, often using terms such ‘manliness’, ‘fathers’, and ‘great men’ multiple times per stanza. While in the past this masculinism was a default background assumption in nationalistic cultural production, here it has become centred and foregrounded in a fraught and fierce fashion, which I would suggest indicates an attempt to reinscribe an identity that is perceived as being under siege.

Perhaps the most popular Syrian loyalist patriotic song at the time of this writing is called ‘Allah muhyi al-jaysh’ (May God Save Our Army), which is abundant with masculinist gratifications. There are at least two versions of this song in circulation, with somewhat different lyrics and arrangements.¹ Neither of the versions mentions women’s involvement in the army, despite the fact that the regime began to recruit women into the military in 2014. The song is not subtle in its emphasis on the glory and heroism of loyalist male soldiers:

May God save our Army

Hail Syria and its heroes

Hail the Army and its great men

Our blood is for Syria!

As the song continues, it shifts to a common theme of presenting the Syrian nation as a threatened woman who in need of protection by her ‘sons’. As one version elaborates:

May God hail and cherish.

The son of my nation.

Who is protecting my honour [sharaf]

The videos that accompany these songs on various social media presentations are almost exclusively composed of footage of male soldiers engaged in physical exercises, practicing hand-to-hand combat, or using military equipment (launching artillery, shooting rifles, etc.). The impact of these activities on the opposition is not shown; instead the visual emphasis is on the physiques and confident actions of the regime soldiers.

A similar and likewise wildly popular song, which is often used in loyalist marches and demonstrations, is called ‘jaysh al-watan’ (The Army of the Homeland). Again there are multiple versions of this song in circulation, with somewhat different lyrics, arrangements, performers and presentations.² They all emphasise the glory of nationalist fighters in masculine terms, both through direct references to men and through allegories such as ‘flashing swords’ and ‘bulging muscles’. The song starts with:

This is the Army of our nation

It is from us and for us

It is the one who protected us and gave us safety

It is my brother and your brother

It is my father and your father

It has made our nation proud

Full of manliness and magnanimity

It has protected our people

And for his [the Army’s] eyes we are singing

It is my name and your name

It is my blood and your blood

It is the symbol of manliness and heroism

Their twisted forearms will protect us from enemies.

The role of the masculine soldier is conflated here very overtly with male leadership and protection within in the family (‘brothers’ and ‘fathers’ as giving protection). This links the nationalist cause directly to the presumed domestic leadership roles of men, and conflates the survival of the nation with the survival of these types of domestic gender ideologies.

Another notable feature of this song is that it continues on to describe violent encounters between the paragons of the nationalist Army and those who would oppose them, and when doing so it presents the perfidious and ‘illegitimate’ resistors using strongly gendered idioms. The song provides such recognition of the role of nationalist Army clearly:

They are the title of heroism.

With twisted forearms to protect us from treachery and enemies.

They stay awake to protect our nation from our enemies.

They are choosing martyrdom to give us victory.

Thus it invests tremendously in a masculinist hierarchy where enemies of the nation are portrayed as less manly, in contrast to the strong and masculine loyalist soldiers who are deserving of love, belonging, and veneration.

This song differs from many in the genre in that it incorporates both male and female singers. In addition, the videos accompanying the song sometimes include presentations of women. Despite this nominal inclusiveness, it is clear that the women are there to serve as adjuncts and supporters rather than as the central locus of glory. It is, after all, ‘my brother’ and ‘my father’ who have ‘made the nation proud’. The use of women in these otherwise masculinist performances is representative of the manner in which Bashar Al-Assad’s regime has cynically instrumentalised ‘feminist’ symbolism and representation to prop up a broadly patriarchal state institution. Actions such as the recent formation of a loyalist female fighters’ group and patriotic statements by Asmaa al-Assad (Bashar’s wife) on International Women’s Day serve mainly as media opportunities to demonstrate eroticised female support for male leadership. In some cases they also serve as attempts to launder the regime’s reputation, especially among potential international audiences (Aldoughli 2020). Meanwhile there has been no substantial effort to challenge hierarchical gender representations or exclude them from loyalist rhetoric.

Female imagery can also be found in ‘ya ummi ya Suriya’ (Oh, My Mother, My Syria), which merges familial imagery of a son’s love for his mother with the glory of dying for the nation.³ While this song entails themes of devotion and sacrifice, its primary emphasis is on the nobility and veneration of the ‘son’, with the mother’s role limited to presumably providing such recognition and witness:

Oh, my mother, oh Syria

Hide your tears

We give you our souls

We give you our precious blood

Oh, my mother, your son has changed his address

He is now in heaven

He always said: Syria is soul and blood.

The gender dichotomy in this song’s language remains clear – the ‘we’ who act as devoted agents are sons (not daughters) of Syria. While the protector has sacrificed his life, he does so, one might say tragically, in order to affirm his gendered identity, his belonging and his nobility, in the knowledge that his glory will be seen and remembered. This gendered language of witnessing is particularly striking in the roles that it defines – while Syria in loyalist rhetoric is most often referred to as the ‘fatherland’ (belonging to or represented by the fathers), when it is called upon to bear witness to a soldier’s heroism it oddly and frequently morphs into a mother or female lover (Aldoughli 2017, 2021). The nation is constructed in the son’s vision as a woman who pours tenderness upon those who protect the homeland.

There are many additional songs in this canon that emphasise the masculine glory of loyalist soldiers. Their lyrics are largely interchangeable. ‘malayeen malayeen al-suriyyeen’ (Millions and Millions of Syrians) describes the agency and heroism of men who take it upon themselves to stand up for the nationalist cause. This particular song is known, even more than the others discussed here, for its adoption and adaptation by various unknown singers and ‘ordinary’ people. There are even versions in circulation that have been modified to integrate completely different causes, such as support for the Lebanese group Hezbollah.⁴

The sturdiness and power of the warriors is likewise celebrated in ‘muntahida’ (We Challenge), which glorifies a combative stance:

We challenge all the world

We are your people, oh Syria

We are your men

We fear nothing

We will never surrender.⁵

The main themes of this song are highly repetitive, and they recur in a variety of closely related songs that are presented online with imagery of soldiers in combat settings.⁶ One notable shift that can be seen when comparing this rhetoric to pre-2011 songs is that the boundaries of exclusion and inclusion have hardened. There is a great deal of thematic similarity and continuity between the wartime corpus and Syrian nationalist songs of prior decades, but the recent, more populist productions exhibit a more emphatic antagonism toward outsiders. They display what we might call ‘stubborn’ masculinism, in which glory is associated with a refusal to give up or give in regardless of logic or circumstance. As the preservation of masculinism becomes ever more its own raison d’etre, there is increased hostility toward the ‘internal enemy’ (i.e., any Syrian opposing the regime, and/or any personal doubts about the cause). This is evident in the terms such as the ‘treacherous enemy’ (ghader ʿdu), among other formulations. The nationalist songs in the years of conflict have become increasingly focused on rejecting and emasculating such dangers, by locating, expunging and destroying any sign of ‘weakness’ or ‘cowardice’. Such rejection of the ‘enemy within’ can rightly be understood as performative, in Butler’s sense of engaging in public displays to establish subjective identity and social positioning (1993, p. 95).

Songs of devotion

This group of songs encapsulates the relationships between the glorified masculine soldier and his comrades and leader. Similar to the songs of glory, these post-2011 discourses show an increasing emphasis on distinguishing between those who are loyal and those who are not. They also highlight the continuing shift in Syria toward an authoritarian personality cult, in which there is little distinction between the cause, the nation and the leader. As noted above, this phenomenon is not new in Syrian political culture; it was also perpetuated during the rule of Hafez al-Assad, who sought to forward himself as a personal embodiment of the Arabist political philosophy and the national destiny. However, during the rule of Bashar al-Assad, and particularly after the outbreak of the civil war, the authoritarian personality cult has become essentially all that remains of the regime’s governing philosophy. The songs of this period present Bashar not as the embodiment of political ideal, but rather as an end in itself, centred around the ethos of masculinist loyalty.

The songs of devotion to Bashar Al-Assad and to other comrades in the cause are suffused with the language of love and service. They demonstrate the aspect of the militarised masculine identity in which the value of the self is grounded in concepts of hierarchical duty and unwavering commitment. They also, perhaps, serve as a projection of the affection and admiration that loyalist men believe they are owed by women and other subordinates, as a reward for participating in the militarised gender construct and serving as ‘protectors’ and paragons of the nation. In expressing their devotion to Bashar Al-Assad, it might be argued that the singers are also suggesting the contours of the love and acceptance that they themselves should receive.

In some cases, the romantic and affective overtones of these songs are almost humorous, as demonstrated by the opposition’s aforementioned satirising of ‘Minhibbak’ (We Love You) – a song that continues to be popular in loyalist circles. At the very least, one can say that such presentations indicate a sincere and strongly forged emotional bond with the leader as a symbol of patriarchal authority. In ‘Ya Bashar, Min Mitlak Min’ (Oh Bashar, ‘Who Is Like You?’) the singer emotes:

Oh Bashar, who is like you?

Whatever happens

We are your millions of soldiers

To you, we pledge ourselves

To you is our love

To you is our blood

To you is our soul

To you is our loyalty

Our sky, land, and water to you only

God wants you, we want you, all of Syria wants you!⁷

While these emotive themes have become redundant in their ceaseless repetition across the loyalist landscape, it is worth noting that some lines of this particular song are taken from a highly canonical Syrian ballad written in 1973 in the context of the Arab Israeli War (Aldoughli 2019b, p. 146). However, the words have been changed to replace devotion to the pan-Arab cause with devotion to the person of Bashar al-Assad.

Another popular song, ‘ya sayyid al-abā’’ (Oh Master of the Heroes) addresses Bashar with the following words:

My will is for you.

If I am not returning.

Then I will meet you.

In the Heaven of immortality.

I will draw its borders with blood and roses.⁸

In a similar loyalist song, ‘Bidna Nhafez’ (We Want to Preserve), Bashar is described in various lines as the ‘the hope’, ‘the spring of humanity’, ‘beloved of millions’, and ‘master of the proud ones’. The song continues on to explain:

The people choose you.

The people love you

And your people

Do not want anyone but you!⁹

The romanticised language in these songs may appear strange, but it serves an important purpose in reinforcing the passionate, irrational attachment (what I referred to earlier as ‘stubborn’ masculinity) that locates the identity construct as a value beyond all reason. During the time of war, such rhetoric serves to blurs political and ethical judgment and acts as a tool of mobilisation.

The passionate identification of oneself with the leader and with one’s ‘brothers’ who serve the nation is not something that remains in the realm of rhetoric. It is expressed in actions, in killing, in hostility to outsiders, and ultimately in blood. In 2021, as Bashar Al-Assad stood for a new presidential election, scenes of patriotic regime loyalists piercing their fingers to vote ‘yes’ in blood went viral on social media and in the country’s news blogs.¹⁰ From concepts of love and devotion, when abstracted from real personal relationships, exaggerated to all-consuming proportions, and tied to hierarchical gendered roles and insider/outsider dynamics of belonging, is derived an irrational political affinity grounded not in civic philosophies or pragmatic materialism, but rather in the preservation of identity. The nature of the ‘love’ between the leader and his people is not one that tolerates disagreement and diversity, nor is it measured by civic rights and accountability. It is a construct imagined as eternal, involuntary and sacrosanct, though in reality it fluctuates with the whims and impulses of the moment.

These words succinctly combine three points that convey the outlines of primordial nationalist loyalty. First, the leader – people relationship is about maintaining personal and familial ties, based on emotional attachment and ‘love’. Second, these ties of love serve as a measure of the leader’s legitimacy and the consent of the governed, replacing the integrity of legal and civic processes. Third, the benefits of citizenship and belonging are predicated upon an individual’s readiness to demonstrate unconditional love for the nation and its leader.

While seeking to emphasise affective bonds as a means of generating support, this language diminishes the civic notion of national membership. It presumes an involuntary love for the nation and its leader, and implicitly excludes anyone who may not feel such intense bonds of emotional loyalty.

Conclusion

This article presents a textual analysis of loyalist songs in the context of the Syrian civil war, emphasising the ways in which an irrational attachment to masculinism is linked to the consolidation and continuation of support for the regime. Loyalism, in this sense, is an ideological tool used by the regime to maintain power and control, shaping public perception and individual identities to align with the state's objectives. It's a form of identity politics where loyalty to the nation-state is closely linked with upholding and embodying the gender norms and values promoted by the ruling power. Privileged and militarised concepts of masculinity have long been reinforced by the Ba’athist state as an aspect of forging national identity, and during the civil war years the maintenance of this masculine identity concept has become one of the foremost pillars around which loyalist support is organised. The related discourses, which promote a violent and exclusionary nationalist politics as a way to reaffirm manliness, appear to no longer require the active coercive intervention of the Syrian state, and are now instead recycled and recirculated autonomously by regime supporters ‘from below’.

While this article does not aim to discuss the institution of the military and its role in Syrian politics, it is worth noting that Hafez Al-Assad originally came to power through a military coup, and that the Ba’athist regime relied heavily on the army in consolidating its early dominance and control over the populace (Sayigh 2014, Saouli 2012, Ayubi 2009, Dawisha 2003). For many years public support for the army was mandatory in Syria, and military parades and performances were a regular spectacle. During the later years of the regime, this militarism began to take on more of a rhetorical and hegemonic character, as opposed to a direct application of coercive force. As the analysis in this article shows, however, the shaping of the body politic around an ethos of militarised masculinism results in a continuing reservoir of potential violence that is always ready to re-emerge when needed to defend the construct. For those who can conceive of belonging in no other terms, there is an existential attachment to the masculinist identity construct and an unwavering willingness to shed blood to preserve it. In masculinist identity politics, these gendered norms and values are not only promoted as ideals for individual behaviour but are also integrated into the national identity, political rhetoric and institutional practices. The aim is to construct a societal framework where power and legitimacy are inherently linked to the ability to embody and enforce these masculine ideals. This often results in a political culture that reinforces gender hierarchies, suppresses dissent and maintains the status quo by aligning state power with a specific, often militarised, form of masculinity. More importantly, the continuation of these masculinist identifications in Syria has had a drastic negative impact on the prospects for a peaceful transition to inclusive democracy.

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Additional information

Notes on contributors

Rahaf Aldoughli

Rahaf Aldoughli, Lecturer in Middle East and North African Studies at Lancaster University.

Notes

1 Various presentations of this song can be found by searching for it by name (in Arabic) on YouTube. At the time of this writing some of the most-watched presentations were located at:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1pKEV28bitw

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LmMtKpBWO88

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hz-wevv-2zI

2 At the time of this writing some of the most-watched versions of this song were found at: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DBxFXxuGvKg

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wd_riPJd_WU

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YUj_KOdDFVw

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qKlcRBo0m_c

3 A version of this song performed by Uthaina al-Al-Fares can found at:

https://youtu.be/qS1arOuHVZw

4 Popular versions can be found at:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=z0FhxoHfaFc

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iOYLggrJDQw

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-rKhXvGhzAI

5 https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8_3CDrVF7vA

6 See ‘Nihna rijalik, oh Bashar,’ found at: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8_3CDrVF7vA

7 https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ckALkT0gIAM

8 https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lfa4bfK0eOw

9 https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3Faq9qYA9Ic

10 An example can be seen at:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uq9aE_KN19c