Syria

Assad has fled to Russia, the Syrian government has crumbled, and history tells us that Syria’s political landscape will resemble a bizarre cross between a Monty Python sketch and the infamous scene in Lawrence of Arabia, where the tribes argue in Damascus after capturing the city. You know the one - chaotic shouting, lofty rhetoric, and absolutely no idea how to run a power plant.

In the vacuum left by Assad’s departure, factions of all shapes and sizes will emerge, each claiming they are the group destined to lead Syria into a bright new future. “We’re the legitimate government!” proclaims one coalition. “No, we’re the United Democratic Front for the New Syrian Renaissance!” counters another. The Damascus Conference Room, once a place of hushed bureaucracy, is now a cacophony of tribal leaders, exiled intellectuals, and ambitious newcomers, all demanding their piece of the pie.

This scene could not be more reminiscent of that chaotic meeting in Lawrence of Arabia. Like the Bedouin tribes arguing over who gets to control the telegraph office, post-Assad Syria’s factions are will be locked in a debate about critical infrastructure. One group demands control of the national grid but admits they don’t know how to run it. Another insists on taking over hospitals but points out they’ve never actually seen an X-ray machine. The one voice of reason, a dishevelled engineer pleading for cooperation, is promptly ignored as everyone yells, “We captured Damascus—we deserve it!”

Meanwhile, Assad, safe in a Russian dacha, watches the news with a smug grin, sipping tea and muttering, “Told you so,” as if the chaos vindicates his years of autocratic rule. He may even consider brushing up his eye surgery skills. Putin, ever the opportunist, sits nearby, chuckling at the absurdity of it all and wondering how he can turn it to his advantage.

Back in Syria, the international community plays its usual roles. Western powers applaud the “spirit of democracy” while failing to understand that democracy doesn’t exactly thrive on shouting matches and petty squabbles. Turkey seizes the opportunity to extend its influence under the guise of peacekeeping, and the U.N. dispatches a weary representative who tries in vain to broker agreements that last longer than the time it takes for a round of tea.

Meanwhile, the Syrian people stand on the sidelines, much like the citizens of Damascus in Lawrence of Arabia, watching their supposed liberators argue themselves into irrelevance. “Are they going to fix the roads?” one man asks. “What about the water supply?” another adds. But instead of answers, they get yet another declaration: “We are the Supreme Revolutionary Committee for the People’s Liberation and National Unity!” followed by a chorus of “Splitters!”

The tragedy, of course, is that while the factions bicker, the country continues to suffer. The Monty Python absurdity and Lawrence of Arabia melodrama highlight the same timeless folly: it’s easy to take power, but governing requires more than speeches and banners. Syria’s post-Assad leaders might want to take a lesson from history - or at least agree on who gets to run the metaphorical telegraph office before the whole endeavour collapses under the weight of its own absurdity.

One hopes it doesn't happen, but let's wait and see.