Kamal Shahin writes:

Late on the night of Dec. 7, a trusted friend in Damascus leaked an extraordinary piece of news to me: President Bashar al-Assad was set to announce his resignation within hours. I found it impossible to believe. To protect my credibility as a journalist and avoid falling victim to misinformation, I posted a vague message on my Facebook page: “A big surprise tomorrow.”

Like many Syrians, I doubted the news. Since the outbreak of the Syrian crisis in 2011, Assad and his regime had been defined by relentless obstinacy, rejecting dialogue and resisting any meaningful reforms in a decaying system built on the oppressive legacy of his father, Hafez al-Assad. Bashar, who thrived in the shadow of his father’s brutal achievements, never innovated or broke from the status quo.

This was the man who had plunged the country into chaos, making good on the grim slogan chanted by his supporters: “Assad or we burn the country.” Given this, many expected that after losing Syria’s major cities — Aleppo, Hama and Homs — to rebel factions, Assad would stage a final stand from his palace on Mount Qasioun, which looms over Damascus. Such a battle likely would have involved the elite Republican Guard and the Fourth Armored Division, led by his brother Maher. These units, estimated to include 100,000 loyal and well-equipped fighters — mostly handpicked relatives of the president — were historically entrusted with defending the regime to its last breath.

At 5 a.m., my wife’s phone rang. The caller was my nephew in Damascus, his voice trembling with fear and urgency.

“It’s over. He’s gone!” he exclaimed.

“Who’s gone?” I asked, confused.

“The president. He sold us out! Betrayed us! That son of a —”

His voice dissolved into a string of curses — words that, until recently, no one would dare utter about Assad over the phone. [Continue reading…]