It depends on where you live and who you are. Life in Damascus or Aleppo is very different from life in the north or in smaller towns. But there’s one common factor: the fall of the regime created a power vacuum, and that has opened the door to new dangers and risks.

We’re hearing of disappearances and kidnappings, particularly of women, and a rise in hate speech and revenge narratives on social media. When a dictatorship ends suddenly, people’s emotions are raw and sometimes justice can easily be replaced by vengeance. That’s why we urgently need transitional justice to prevent further human rights violations and start rebuilding trust.

The challenge is dealing with the past without reproducing it. Syria can’t move forward by repeating the same cycles of violence. We need accountability and justice, but also processes that promote understanding and protect the fragile hope we’ve just regained.

Living in exile makes you constantly question yourself and whether you can still make an impact. For many of us, it’s not a choice: we can’t go back because of safety reasons or legal statutes for refugees. But that doesn’t mean our role is any less important.

Activists in exile are finding creative ways to continue their work, spread awareness, build solidarity and correct misinformation. The internet has become our main bridge to collaborate with those still living in Syria. It isn’t always easy: there are security risks, digital surveillance and emotional distance, but it’s a vital lifeline. We need to use any space available to keep the cause alive.

There’s also a personal dimension to it. Many of us became activists after losing a family member or a friend, or simply because we couldn’t stay silent while others disappeared or were killed by the regime. Activism became a way of resisting that loss and keeping the memories of our loved ones alive, even when we are far from home.

Culture Tank Factory is a Syrian think-and-do tank dedicated to addressing cultural and sociopolitical challenges through the lens of arts, culture and civic imagination. It was created by a collective of artists, cultural practitioners, journalists and researchers – many of us in exile – and we wanted it to operate as a collaborative, interdisciplinary platform that bridges critical thought with actionable practice, bringing critical thought into public spheres, governance and politics.

During the war people inside and outside Syria lived completely different realities. Those who stayed dealt with constant threats to their lives and safety, and those who left faced displacement and exile. Our goal is to bring those experiences together so we can learn from one another and build a common vision.

Through projects such as Factory 01, we hold labs and panels with artists and activists from inside and outside Syria. We work on reimagining cultural policy, reclaiming public spaces and democratising access to art and knowledge. For us culture is not a luxury; it’s a form of resistance and a way to rebuild identity, heal and reconnect. Art offers a space where people can start picturing a Syria that moves beyond conflict and division.

What I hope for is a Syria that belongs to everyone: a country where people can participate freely regardless of background, gender or religion. The future must be built on civic engagement, not personal or political agendas. We need spaces where people can talk, disagree and still respect each other, spaces that allow alternative narratives to coexist rather than compete.

Art and culture can help us get there. They open creative and emotional pathways that politics often closes. Through art, you can bring people together, even those who have been divided by war. It creates empathy and that’s the foundation of any real reconciliation.

Maybe it sounds idealistic, but ideals matter. They point the way and guide us toward what we want to become. Through culture, creativity and collective effort, we can rebuild Syria as a state, and as a shared human experience.