Islamic Ninja Fighters and the Syrian Janus
Image by Mahmoud Sulaiman.
The face is a mirror of the mind.
Ovid
The General Security Administration in Syria has issued an executive order prohibiting its personnel from wearing masks. This decision follows the widespread use of masks by Islamic groups that took power after the collapse of President Bashar al-Assad’s regime. While reports indicate that the order will initially be enforced in Damascus, it remains unclear whether it will extend to other cities across Syria.
Syrians are living in a state of fear, particularly in the coastal regions and other areas home to Christians and minority groups, in the aftermath of Assad’s fall and the atrocities committed against civilians in Western Syria. Members of armed radical Islamic factions that have seized power continue to conceal their identities by wearing masks.
Masked armed men first appeared in the city of Idlib in northern Syria following the rise of the al-Nusra Front, a group that originated from al-Qaeda and later rebranded as Hay’at Tahrir al-Sham, claiming to have severed ties with the terrorist organization. This group led the “Operation Deterrence of Aggression,” which _within the framework of a secret international and regional agreement _ultimately led to the fall of Bashar al-Assad’s regime and the appointment of Abu Mohammad al-Julani, the leader of Hay’at Tahrir al-Sham, as the current president under the name Ahmad al-Shar’a.
The narrative on Syrian social media highlights the two identities of the president. One, Abu Mohammad al-Julani, is depicted as a fierce leader, known for wielding an iron fist against those considered remnants of al-Assad’s regime. The other, Ahmad al-Shar’a, represents the pragmatic political figure, carefully crafted to project a more diplomatic and acceptable image, especially to the West. This duality draws parallels to the Roman myth of Janus, who was depicted with a double-faced head, sometimes bearded, sometimes not, in artistic representations. Al-Julani embodies the backward-facing, militant side, while al-Shar’a represents the forward-facing, political persona. Al-Julani is revered as the “lion of the Sunnis,” a fearless warrior who is unafraid of death and ready to use force to crush the enemies of the Islamic nation. In contrast, Ahmad al-Shar’a, as president, is carefully presented as a civilian leader capable of governance, striving to maintain a politically acceptable persona. This duality illustrates the pragmatism of political Islamist movements in the Middle East, which often shift their tone quickly after seizing power to secure and consolidate it.
On March 7, 8 and 9, the backward face of Syria’s Janus took center stage, unleashing horror in western Syria. Meanwhile, the tragedy caused by the genocides continues to unfold.
Despite the restructuring of armed factions under the banner of the Ministry of Defense, the masks that instilled fear in Idlib -linked to armed robberies, assassinations, and violence against factions containing civilian activists -were never removed. Security personnel continued to wear them, and military parades in Damascus and other Syrian cities after the fall of al-Assad regime featured fighters dressed in black, their faces concealed by masks that left only their eyes visible, reminiscent of Japanese ninjas.
Ordinary Syrians were not accustomed to wearing masks until the outbreak of the COVID-19 pandemic, when face coverings became a common sight in city streets as the virus spread across borders. According to Lisān al-‘Arab, the most authoritative Arabic dictionary by Ibn Manzur, the term mask (Litham) refers to a woman adjusting her veil over her nose or a man pulling his headscarf over his face. This practice was historically common in Syria’s desert regions, where people covered their faces to protect themselves from harsh winds carrying sand particles. On the other hand, there is no Quranic text mandating face coverings for either men or women, and Prophet Muhammad is quoted in a Hadith as saying: “Three things strengthen eyesight: looking at greenery, flowing water, and a beautiful face.”
During the early stages of the 2011 Syrian uprising against the Assad regime, protesters wore masks during demonstrations to conceal their identities from security forces. However, they struggled to accept the widespread use of masks in parts of Idlib that were outside the regime’s control. In this climate of ideologically divided factions, assassinations targeting civilian protesters escalated, aiming to consolidate power over the opposition, steer the course of the Syrian revolution, and suppress the civil spirit and youth movement that had originally driven it.
The phenomenon of wearing masks became widespread in Idlib, despite ongoing social media campaigns against it and criticism from local activists. On April 28, 2018, graffiti in the city of Sarmada, in rural Idlib, called on masked individuals to reveal their faces:
Take off your mask so we can see your beautiful face.
He who defends a cause does not hide his face.
According to an article published in Enab Baladi on December 2, 2018, social media campaigns began warning of the dangers associated with the growing use of masks. One such campaign was launched by the “Muslim Missionaries of the Levant” group, which, as the newspaper reported, operated in opposition-controlled areas. The group promoted slogans such as “Your mask scares our children” and “A masked person harbors evil and seeks to hide it.”
In an article titled “The Mask as Political Symbol: On the Ritualization of Political Protest through Mask-Wearing,” Danish researcher Lone Riisgaard and anthropologist Bjørn Thomassen argue that masks create a boundary between the individual and the outside world, functioning as a threshold or a door. In the Syrian context, the mask has evolved into a barrier and a symbol of fear, embodying the power that dehumanizes those labeled as “remnants of al-Assad’s regime” or infidels outside the true fold of the Islamic nation. The masked face signifies the absolute control that extremist Islamist groups wield over people’s lives, while its anonymity allows them to commit acts of brutality with impunity.
A friend of mine, a poet still living in Syria, once joked: “We are ruled by a ninja government. We’ve come to use expressions like, ‘The ninjas are coming,’ ‘The ninjas have left,’ or ‘The ninjas set up a checkpoint at such-and-such intersection.’”
I joked with a Syrian journalist working inside Syria, who asked me to refer to him by the pseudonym “the Secular Samurai” if I quoted him. I asked, “When will the ninja movie end?” He responded verbatim:
“They know no forgiveness. Imagine -they force their victim to kneel on all fours, climb onto his back, and order him to bark like a dog or bray like a donkey, simply because he belongs to a different sect. After stripping him of his humanity in this way, they shoot him. Believe me, the ninjas we see in movies are nothing compared to these people.”
The masks worn by members of the militias that seized power in Syria resemble those of ninja warriors. Before the era of ninjas, samurai fighters wore face armor (menbo) both for protection and to strike fear into their enemies. However, shinobi (the Japanese term for ninjas) used masks primarily for stealth, espionage, and disguise, often blending in as monks or farmers. Some ninja masks were even designed to resemble the faces of angry animals to intimidate opponents.
In contrast, the masks worn in Syria are simpler, sometimes varying in color, though predominantly black. They instill sudden terror among the people. Still, some defend their use, arguing that General Security personnel wear them for security reasons.
The situation in Syria feels like being trapped inside a video game, where masked fighters sit behind heavy machine guns mounted on Toyota trucks, patrolling the streets with their faces concealed. Other Toyota trucks, packed with masked men, roll through the city as they chant Allahu Akbar! in unison.
An article published in Enab Baladi in 2018, titled “Criminals Behind the Mask, Murderers Without Features,” traces the evolution of mask-wearing in Idlib. Initially, masks were used for camouflage in military operations, but over time, they became a tool for concealing identities while carrying out crimes. Their use was not primarily for security purposes but rather driven by hidden agendas, often manifested through criminal acts targeting revolutionary forces. This was emphasized by Mustafa Sijri, a leader in the Free Syrian Army and head of the political office of the Al-Mu’tasim Brigade, whose remarks are cited in the article.
Tim Gurani, in an article published on Daraj (May 7, 2018) titled “The Mask Behind Every Terrorist Operation in Idlib: Declarations Order Its Ban, but Without Enforcement,” quotes a fighter from Hay’at Tahrir al-Sham, Abdul Karim al-Fadl, who claims that masks provide protection against retaliation and instill fear in the hearts of the “infidels.”
During the massacres along the Syrian coast on March 7, 8, and 9, 2025 masks once again played a central role, as masked fighters led civilian victims to their executions. While the masks served to conceal the killers’ identities, some carried out the murders openly, without any attempt to hide -as if the act itself brought them closer to God, like a form of prayer. What stands out is that some individuals filmed the atrocities on their phones, brazenly removing their masks and committing crimes without fear, as if fulfilling a divine mandate.
The criticism from leftist intellectuals like Slavoj Žižek and Noam Chomsky toward the Syrian opposition has often been framed through a lens that portrays many of Assad’s opponents as reactionary Islamists. Both thinkers, while acknowledging the brutal repression under the Assad regime, viewed the rise of Islamic factions in the opposition as a reactionary force, aligning with the notion that these groups were driven by conservative, often extremist ideologies, rather than any genuine progressive aspirations.
However, in light of recent developments, the criticisms directed at Žižek and Chomsky, who were condemned for their stance on the Syrian armed opposition, now appear misplaced. Critics had denounced Žižek for portraying the opposition as reactionary Islamists, but given the current situation _where groups in power are working to establish a Sunni dictatorship and marginalizing religious and ideological differences _ such criticisms now seem misguided and out of touch with the reality of the situation. The groups that have seized power in Syria are not simply reactionary Islamists in the opposition, but are actively working to establish a Sunni dictatorship. They are systematically dehumanizing and massacring those who are religiously or ideologically different, while seeking to impose Islamic law as the exclusive basis for the country’s constitution under the leadership of the Syrian Janus.
According to historians, the doors of Janus’s shrine were left open during times of war and kept closed when Rome was at peace. The Roman historian Livy records that the gates were closed only twice between the reign of Numa Pompilius (7th century BC) and Augustus (1st century BC).
In Syria, however, there is no sign that the gates of the Syrian shrine will close anytime soon. The political landscape remains uncertain and unpredictable, with the country’s future being shaped by those in power. As a result, the path forward is unclear, and the prospect of peace remains elusive.
