Toward an Exceptional Qurʾanic Generation: How Dar al-Wahy al-Sharif Schools Shape Islam, Identity, and Power in Northwest Syria

Abstract

This article explores Islamic citizenship education as the conduit through which ideological governance was articulated and enacted in rebel-governed northwestern Syria (2017–25) with a close ethnographic and textual analysis of the Dar al-Wahy al-Sharif (DWS) school network. Founded in 2017 under the patronage of Hayʾat Tahrir al-Sham (HTS), DWS has grown into the region’s most expansive educational institution, blending Qurʾanic learning with nationalist Islamic pedagogy. Drawing on fieldwork conducted in Idlib in 2025, the study examines how DWS cultivates an “exceptional Qurʾanic generation” while operating within, and reinforcing, a political environment structured by HTS rule, shaping patterns of loyalty and parental alignment. Situating DWS within HTS’s post-Salafi turn and broader state-building project, the article argues that the school system functions as both a site of ideological reproduction and an arena in which postconflict Islamist governance takes shape.

Constructing the ‘Exceptional Qurʾanic Generation

The outbreak of the Syrian civil war in 2011 disrupted daily life and transformed the country’s education sector, particularly in the northwest. After years of conflict with regime forces and rival factions, Hayʾat Tahrir al-Sham (HTS; originally al-Qaʿida’s Syrian branch, before renouncing that affiliation and distancing itself from international jihad in 2016) consolidated power in 2017. Rather than ruling directly, HTS established the technocratic Syrian Salvation Government (SSG), delegating everyday administration to local elites such as academics, businessmen, and tribal leaders while retaining control over security and strategic policy. In the same year, under HTS’s patronage, militants founded the Dar al-Wahy al-Sharif (DWS; House of Noble Revelation) school to educate the children of Islamist fighters, marking the beginning of a broader effort to institutionalize Islamic education within a new governance framework.

Supported by substantial funding and political backing, the DWS network expanded rapidly. By the 2024–25 academic year, it was educating some 16,000 children across more than seventy institutions. Its motto, “toward an exceptional Qurʾanic generation” (naḥw jīl Qurʾānī farīd), underscores the centrality of Qurʾanic learning within a curriculum designed to combine religious, moral, and social instruction. Alongside Qurʾanic memorization, DWS functions as a vehicle of political and social education, reflecting HTS’s broader state-building agenda.

Al Sakbani and Beaujouan have observed that in both opposition- and regime-held areas of Syria curricula are heavily politicized and serve power consolidation rather than social cohesion, with private schools and external actors using education as a tool of soft power. ¹ Although this observation broadly holds, DWS represents a different case: before HTS extended its ambitions nationwide, its primary goal was to consolidate social and moral order within northwestern Syria while keeping alive the aspiration of national reunification. This article examines DWS as a key institution in HTS’s governance environment, describing how it operates as a channel of ideological transmission and contributes to broader processes of political consolidation. After briefly outlining the educational landscape of rebel-held northwestern Syria, I trace DWS’s emergence through local reports and interviews, emphasizing its integration into HTS’s administrative framework. I then explore how DWS advances HTS’s political goals by strengthening its authority and reinforcing intra-Islamist cohesion through children’s socialization. In this respect, DWS functions as a site of postconflict citizenship education, an arena in which moral reconstruction, collective identity, and political loyalty are jointly cultivated.

My analysis focuses on the network’s religious orientation, the identity it fosters among students, and its positions on issues such as jihad and minority relations. Drawing on fieldwork conducted in Idlib in January and February 2025, this study is based on semistructured interviews with four members of the DWS leadership, two officials from the SSG’s Directorate of Education, five teachers, and eight parents of enrolled students, as well as informal discussions with parents from other local schools. These interviews shed light on DWS’s aims and worldview, as well as the political and social environment that has enabled its growth. Given the sensitivity of the topic, only leadership members are cited by name. ² DWS documents its activities extensively on social media; its Facebook and YouTube channels therefore served as key sources for my research, complemented by information from local online news outlets. This analysis focuses on the political and social effects of educational practice rather than on the personal intentions or sincerity of educators, many of whom understand their work primarily in terms of religious duty, moral cultivation, and community service. It approaches DWS not as a centrally engineered political instrument but as an outcome of overlapping institutional logics, moral commitments, and governance practices under de facto rule.

Understanding DWS requires tracing the ideological evolution of its political patron, HTS. In this respect, the article builds on the groundbreaking study by Patrick Haenni and Jérôme Drevon, ³ which argues that HTS has undergone a profound ideological transformation. Although DWS promotes a conservative Islamic ethos rooted in Salafi tradition, it departs in notable ways from classical Salafism, reflecting HTS’s post-Salafi turn. To interpret this shift, I draw on the theoretical framework of Olivier Roy and Théo Blanc, situating HTS—and by extension DWS—within the broader post-Salafi current. Yet both cases illustrate that this framework has limits: certain concepts remain framed in Salafi terms, even when their application is pragmatic.

This transformation also manifests in HTS’s efforts to consolidate authority among loyalist families through education. As Loyle and her colleagues argue, this service functions as a core mechanism of governance through which rebel groups seek to exercise authority, gather information, and cultivate civilian cooperation. ⁴ Across opposition-held territories worldwide, educational initiatives have served as instruments of governance, seeking to rebuild order amid instability. The DWS network illustrates how schooling in such settings functions as both social reconstruction and political consolidation—a dual role central to postconflict citizenship education theory. This framework is key: it helps explain how HTS employs education to cultivate moral order and political belonging within its emergent state structures, giving rise to a localized form of citizenship education under de facto governance. As Quaynor and others observe, citizenship education in fragile contexts unfolds under severe constraints of governance, legitimacy, and pedagogy, yet remains vital to rebuilding collective identities and social cohesion. ⁵

Within this framework, DWS can be understood as a form of rebel citizenship education: it (re)socializes children to a moral order that aligns with the broader post-Salafi political project under which it operates, while reconstructing community amid the social fragmentation of war. Like citizenship education initiatives elsewhere, DWS employs curriculum design, teacher formation, and classroom ritual to redefine belonging and moral citizenship. But here citizenship emerges as a hybrid form that fuses civic and national ideals with Qurʾanic ethics, narratives of martyrdom, and loyalty to the revolutionary umma (the community of Muslims). Investigating these features is crucial, because students educated at DWS are likely to shape not only the religious landscape of northwestern Syria but also that of the country as a whole in the years to come, given their numbers and influence within their communities.

Northwestern Syria As a Post-Salafi Space

To situate DWS within its broader social and ideological milieu, this section examines northwestern Syria as a post-Salafi space shaped by HTS’s evolving project of religious and political reconstruction. According to Olivier Roy, Salafism seeks to recreate the ideal Muslim community of the first generations by universalizing the sunna and detaching Islam from local cultural contexts, urging believers to live strictly by scripture. ⁶ Meanwhile, post-Salafism in the Middle East denotes actors disillusioned with both state-aligned scholars and militant jihadism who seek more flexible, context-based Islamic identities. As Roy and Blanc observe, it entails a selective revision of classical Salafism by retaining tawhīd and scripturalism while rejecting takfīr (excommunication), hyperliteralism, and anti-madhhab (Islamic legal school) stances. Many avoid the Salafi label due to its association with extremism and past rigidity, even if their beliefs remain similar. ⁷ Merone and his colleagues note that Tunisian Salafis pragmatically embraced the Maliki school, a shift akin to the turn of HTS and DWS to the Shafiʿi tradition. ⁸ Blending neotraditionalist, Muslim Brotherhood, and even liberal influences, post-Salafism decentralizes authority from Gulf ʿulamaʾ to local scholars, social media preachers, and middle-class intellectuals. ⁹ In line with Pall’s observations, post-Salafism, reframing belonging from a global umma to localized, civic-national identities, facilitates integration into the nation–state, an ideal DWS explicitly advances through its postconflict moral and citizenship education. ¹⁰

Between 2012 and 2013, the Syrian conflict was heavily shaped by transnational fundraising networks led by mainstream Salafi actors, many of whom were based in the Gulf, mostly in Kuwait. ¹¹ By 2014, their influence had waned amid battlefield losses, infighting, and dwindling Gulf donations. Yet Salafi networks endured through NGOs and clerics who remained active in aid and religious institutions, positioning themselves to shape Syria’s future religious landscape. ¹²

Founded as a jihadi Salafi group, Jabhat al-Nusra’s transformation into HTS marked a key shift in Syrian Salafi jihadism. HTS, along with allied Salafi-influenced groups such as Ahrar al-Sham, came to recognize that rigid governance alienated communities and damaged their legitimacy. In response, HTS distanced itself from transnational Salafi networks, elevating local Shafiʿi scholarship to align with Syrian religious norms and curb extremist influence. ¹³ HTS prohibited individuals from issuing declarations of excommunication (takfīr), confining this exclusively to the authority of the fatwa committee of the Shariʿa Council. Also banned was the publication of fatwas and religious rulings without prior review and approval by the council. ¹⁴

HTS’s focus has increasingly shifted toward political survival and the formation of strategic alliances against shared adversaries, positioning the group closer to Muslim Brotherhood–style Islamism. ¹⁵ This article approaches HTS as a post-Salafi organization and, from this perspective, analyzes DWS and its approach to education.

The Emergence of Dar al-Wahy al-Sharif

The rapid expansion of DWS was enabled by the collapse of public education in rebel-held northwestern Syria. Between 2013 and 2017, conflict and displacement nearly doubled Idlib’s population—from about 1.5 to 3 million—overwhelming an already fragile school system. ¹⁶ After the Syrian Salvation Government was established in 2017, its Ministry of Education could pay only administrative staff and relied on roughly 4,000 volunteer teachers, coordinating with about twenty local organizations. ¹⁷

Foreign programs such as Manahel (2018–23) reached over 600,000 children, but only 64 percent of schools in Idlib received any support, mostly limited to the primary level. ¹⁸ Private schools (around 450 by 2022) charged $200 to $300 per year, unaffordable for families earning about $100 a month. ¹⁹ By 2024, an estimated 386,000 children had dropped out, excluding 84,000 displaced students. ²⁰ Educational access became increasingly dependent on income and periodically disrupted by renewed fighting. Under SSG control, coeducation also was banned beyond fourth grade.

In Idlib, a conservative Sunni-majority region, children once attended state schools in the morning and mosque lessons in the afternoon. Although no statistics exist, interviewees estimated that under Assad, 30 to 40 percent of boys studied with local shaykhs. As the state system collapsed, mosque-based instruction gained new prominence.

In 2017, the year the SSG was established, the Dar al-Wahyayn initiative was launched to provide religious education for the children of Islamist fighters affiliated with HTS who had arrived in Idlib city. Hosted in various mosques, the program was staffed by rebel fighters, mostly without formal religious credentials, who were deemed to have sufficient knowledge of the Qurʾan. As clashes between government forces and rebels in the northwest subsided in 2019 and Russian–Turkish mediation led to a ceasefire in March 2020, aerial bombardments decreased and formal schooling gradually resumed. As normal life returned, many fighters came to recognize that this situation might persist for years, prompting concern for their children’s education.

As a response, a Gaza-born HTS member, known by his nom de guerre ʿAbd al-Rahman al-Ghazzi, proposed to transform Dar al-Wahyayn into a registered school, DWS, combining religious and secular curricula. As one of my interviewees who closely followed the events recalled, al-Ghazzi drew inspiration from the Hamas-run education system in Gaza, which he knew about from his brother, a local school principal. Al-Ghazzi advocated implementing a similar model in Idlib. Under this scheme, boys would attend in the mornings and girls in the afternoons, allowing children to be away from their families for only part of the day. This turn from militant struggle to the institutionalization of schooling marks a classic postconflict shift, transforming the logics of jihad into those of moral citizenship education within a newly emerging Islamic polity.

Over the course of just a few years, DWS experienced rapid development. By the 2024–25 academic year, the institution had grown to serve approximately 16,000 students and employed 1,800 staff members. It operated more than seventy schools and twenty-eight kindergartens, with an annual graduation rate of 900 to 1,000 boys and a comparable number of girls completing sixth grade. ²¹ New students are generally admitted into first grade only and must be no older than six years of age. Admission is primarily reserved for children who previously attended DWS-affiliated kindergartens, whose parents are members of armed factions, or who have lost a parent in the conflict. Exceptions are made only when class capacity has not yet been filled, when a new school branch has recently opened in the area, or when a student presents a formal recommendation (tazkiya) from an administrator or school supervisor. No formal entrance examination is required for other applicants; instead, seats are allocated on a first-come, first-served basis, with places typically filling within an hour of opening registration. ²²

Children of foreign fighters almost always are granted admission to DWS schools. This policy reflects HTS’s broader strategy of integrating loyalist factions and their families into local social structures. By 2021, HTS had dismantled or absorbed most foreign groups that once challenged its authority, incorporating fighters from Arab, Uzbek, Caucasian, Uyghur, Iranian, Baloch, Albanian, and Tajik backgrounds. Loyalist organizations such as the Turkistani Islamic Party and Ajnad Kavkaz maintained their presence, and their children were automatically enrolled in DWS schools, which became key spaces of family socialization. Although DWS does not record the number of foreign students, administrators noted that they rarely form a majority; even in schools with the highest concentrations, they make up no more than a quarter of the pupils. This arrangement promotes daily contact with Syrian peers and facilitates gradual integration. A teacher working with Uzbek students remarked that most faced few language challenges apart from Arabic grammar and often outperformed their Syrian classmates in Qurʾan memorization. When continuing their studies, foreign children typically pursued religious education. According to the same teacher, relations between Syrian and foreign students were generally harmonious, with occasional disputes dismissed as mere “children’s affairs” (shughl awlād).

Kindergartens are coeducational, but from first grade onward strict gender segregation applies to students and staff. Boys wear dark gray robes and skullcaps like those of scholars, whereas girls don black or gray abayas covering the head and face through sixth grade. Each day begins with Qurʾanic recitation and chants, and schools measure success by how many students memorize the Qurʾan in full by graduation. ²³

DWS is organized through an extensive internal bureaucracy. The Ijazah Department certifies students in Qurʾanic memorization according to the Hafs recitation, and the Diwan Office manages administrative communication and documentation. Staffing and student records are handled by a dedicated department, and the Department of Guidance, Curricula, and Training oversees teaching quality, curriculum development, and teacher training. Media production and institutional branding are part of the Media Department, oversight and accountability the Inspection Department, and data management the Statistics Department. The Finance Department supervises budgeting, payroll, and financial reporting, and the Vehicles Office coordinates transportation logistics. A tailoring workshop produces school uniforms to reinforce discipline and visual identity, and the Public Relations Department manages partnerships and external communication. Empowered by HTS, DWS operates under a license from the Ministry of Education and uses infrastructure appropriated by the Directorate of Education. The central administration is based in Idlib’s former police headquarters, a Ministry of Interior property now under SSG authority.

The monthly operating budget of the DWS is estimated at $550,000. Although local businessmen reportedly offer some support, according to interviewees familiar with its finances, the institution is funded almost entirely by HTS. A key revenue stream is the education and learning fee, a 10-percent surcharge levied on all goods imported through the Bab al-Hawa border crossing with Turkey. These funds are transferred directly to the DWS treasury. When revenues from HTS and border taxation fall short, the General Zakat Authority, which is affiliated with HTS, steps in to cover the remaining financial needs of the institution. ²⁴

Thanks to stable financial support, DWS has been largely insulated from the economic and logistical challenges facing education in northwestern Syria. Although class sizes in public schools often exceed sixty students, DWS caps enrollment at thirty per class. Unlike costly private schools, it charges only a symbolic fee of 50 Turkish liras (around $10) per semester, with exemptions for children who have lost their father in the conflict. The school also provides free transportation, heated classrooms (rare in the region), and uniforms, which many families can no longer afford to buy.

Parents I interviewed emphasized DWS’s strong communication practices, noting that teachers use Telegram groups to update them on their children’s progress—an engagement absent in overcrowded public schools. Many also praised the school’s academic quality, saying it rivals private institutions. “Private schools are only for the rich,” explained the father of a second grader, “but DWS gives the same level of education and also teaches values.” Another parent added, “People think DWS is only about the Qurʾan, but their science and math teachers are excellent too. Last year, almost all the top students in the mental math competition were from here.” Such views illustrate that families’ educational choices are shaped not only by religious commitment but also by aspirations for stability and moral order in the postconflict context.

A similar dynamic is evident among teachers, whose experiences reflect these broader social transformations. The availability of qualified teachers has been relatively high in northwestern Syria, due to successive waves of displacement from cities such as Damascus, Homs, and Hama, all with longstanding traditions of Qurʾanic education. ²⁵ But local policy restricts public school employment to teachers accredited outside the northwest who arrived before 2017. This has excluded many displaced teachers from public sector jobs, pushing them toward private institutions. As a result, schools like DWS have become an important source of employment for educators in the region.

Nevertheless, teachers across northwestern Syria face precarious working conditions and inadequate pay. Salaries rarely exceed $150 per month for university graduates and typically around $100 for those with lesser diplomas. In non–NGO-supported schools, the SSG often pays $10 to $20 below these figures. ²⁶ In contrast, teachers at DWS earned $160 per month in early 2023, with payments made regularly and without delay. By the end of 2024, their monthly salary had increased to $180.

DWS recruits teachers through social media announcements, mostly Syrian nationals displaced from other regions. Applicants are tested not only in their fields but also in Qurʾanic recitation, Islamic law, and ethics, and must follow a strict dress code—men in ankle-length robes, women in face-covering abayas. Candidates are expected to embody the school’s values; some have been rejected for declining traditional attire or beards, seen as signs of piety. ²⁷ At the same time, interviewees shared accounts of certain accommodations being made. One teacher was hired despite being a smoker, a practice considered religiously discouraged (makrūh) by DWS, and therefore seen as setting a poor example for students. The teacher was nevertheless accepted after pledging to quit, which he subsequently did. Another teacher noted that she had to abandon some of her previous instructional practices, such as using songs in the classroom, to comply with institutional norms. ²⁸

Shaping HTS’s Legitimacy

Beyond financial ties, DWS is embedded in a dense web of institutional, personal, and administrative relationships that link it to both HTS and the Syrian Salvation Government. This is evident from the regular presence of SSG ministers at high-profile events and new school openings. Notably, ʿAli Kida, the head of the SSG, has attended several major DWS ceremonies, as has Ahmad al-Sharaʿ. ²⁹

The school’s political loyalty was clearly demonstrated in June 2024, when protests erupted across the governorate against both the SSG and HTS. In response, DWS’s central administration dismissed a teacher from its school in Binnish for encouraging participation in the demonstrations via social media. ³⁰ Still, rather than acting as a directive arm of political authority, the school network functions as a socially salient institution whose everyday practices intersect with prevailing ruling structures, normalizing administrative order, public service provision, and moral authority through routine education rather than overt political messaging.

The curricula, particularly the social studies textbooks, reinforce the legitimacy of the administrative order in northwestern Syria by highlighting efforts to organize public services. Topics include law enforcement healthcare and civil defense (White Helmets). ³¹ Supported by Qurʾanic references, the textbooks also explain how Bayt al-Mal (the State Treasury) is allocated to projects deemed vital to the Muslim community. These include supporting jihād fī sabīl Allāh (struggle in the way of Allah), constructing mosques and Qurʾanic schools, and building infrastructure such as roads and bridges. ³²

One lesson, titled “The Importance of Social Welfare,” frames charitable obligations not as civic duties but as core Islamic responsibilities rooted in faith and collective identity. It presents the care of orphans and the families of martyrs as both a moral imperative and a central tenet of Muslim communal life, essential to fostering a just and devout society. ³³

Elsewhere, a lesson introducing students to the region’s economy identifies Bab al-Hawa as a critical hub and highlights the area’s economic dependence on Turkey, the main political ally of HTS. ³⁴ This is particularly significant, as cooperation with Turkey and the deployment of Turkish military checkpoints in Idlib in 2017—crucial for HTS and SSG’s survival—remained contentious among more radical factions.

Forging Unity among the Factions

The role of DWS extends beyond merely reproducing governing narratives through which HTS authority is perceived as legitimate; it functions as a flagship institution that facilitates the social (re)integration of former Salafi jihadi fighters, through their children. In doing so, it provides a shared framework of identity for Syrian and foreign fighters from diverse backgrounds during periods of relative peace.

Since 2016, HTS has sought to build a unified military coalition underpinned by a political project to represent Syria’s liberated areas. Although HTS has lost some founding groups over time, it has continued to pursue coalition-building, maintaining alliances with major local and foreign (muhājir) factions. At the same time, it has expelled uncompromising elements like Liwa al-Aqsa and emphasized peaceful mechanisms for resolving internal disputes. ³⁵ DWS reinforces this unifying effort by educating the children of fighters from various factions under a single institutional framework, and preparing them for more peaceful times.

The slogan “toward an exceptional Qurʾanic generation” resonates strongly with parents I interviewed. A former Syrian fighter from Homs, whose son now attends DWS, expressed his hope that the boy would flourish in peacetime and “continue jihad” by dedicating his life to God. Similarly, another father emphasized the school’s role in raising children in accordance with the Qurʾan, shaping his daughter into an ideal mother. Many parents also are attracted by the institutional pathways DWS offers: through an agreement with the Idlib Ministry of Education, its graduates gain automatic admission to the al-Thanawiyya al-Sharʿiyya religious secondary schools. Roughly half pursue this track; others enroll elsewhere or drop out. Notably, the children of foreign fighters who graduate from DWS have, without exception, continued into further religious education—when they continued their studies at all. This suggests that DWS graduates will play a decisive role in shaping Syria’s future religious landscape.

The network is guided by respected figures with militant backgrounds, lending credibility among Islamist constituencies. Since its founding, DWS’s board of directors has been chaired by Abu Ahmad al-Shawi, a former deputy minister of education in the SSG, whose ongoing ties with the ministry reinforce the institution’s political integration. More influential still is Abu Jabir Hashim al-Shaykh (b. 1968), a veteran jihadist leader. A former emir of Ahrar al-Sham, he fought in Iraq, was imprisoned in Syria until 2011, and later led major coalitions including Jaysh al-Fath and Ansar al-Shariʿa before joining HTS with much of Ahrar al-Sham’s early leadership in 2017. His authority was such that Abu Muhammad al-Julani (now President Ahmad al-Sharaʿ) stepped aside to allow him to become HTS’s first official leader. Parents interviewed for this study described Abu Jabir’s involvement as a guarantee of DWS’s religious and ideological reliability, with one remarking, “Our children are a trust (ʾamāna) in the hands of DWS and Abu Jabir.” Several other leaders and teachers, such as Omar Suwaydan, the director of public relations, also have militant pasts, reinforcing the school’s Islamist credentials.

DWS schools primarily serve their local neighborhoods, with most students attending the nearest institution. Reflecting HTS’s broader strategy of unifying diverse factions under a shared Islamist project, the DWS curriculum also fosters a collective memory of fallen Islamist leaders. For example, a fifth-grade social studies textbook includes images of six deceased Syrian Islamist figures, leaving their names blank for students to identify. ³⁶ Although some of these men once rivaled Jabhat al-Nusra and HTS, their pre-2017 death, or alignment with or recognition of HTS’s authority, allows their inclusion to serve an integrative ideological function.

Another lesson honors ʿAbd al-Basit al-Sarut, the footballer-turned-fighter famed for his antiregime chants, portraying him as a model of youthful courage and faith whose cross-factional appeal made him a unifying revolutionary symbol. ³⁷ The Lughat al-Qurʾan 5 (Qurʾan’s Language 5) textbook includes a dedicated section on ʿAbd al-Qadir al-Salih, also known as Abu Musʿab (1979–2013), the founder of the al-Tawhid Brigade, established in July 2012 under the Free Syrian Army umbrella. ³⁸ He is celebrated for his role in unifying disparate rebel factions and advocating for an Islamist governance model that emphasized protections for minorities and civilians. Through these symbolic integrations, DWS operationalizes a form of postconflict civic pedagogy that translates battlefield solidarity into shared narratives of belonging and moral duty.

A Post-Salafi Educational Approach

In areas controlled by the SSG, most public and private schools followed a unified educational plan that was largely based on the pre-war Syrian national curriculum. ³⁹ Because the state curriculum under Assad was heavily politicized, its revision was inevitable once schooling resumed. All references to the Assad regime, as well as material deemed incompatible with conservative Islamic interpretations, were removed.

Etiquette and the Qurʾan was introduced as a new subject in both public and private schools, beginning with basic recitation and later progressing to memorization of short suras. By 2025, the curriculum had been further revised through a mediation process led by UNICEF in collaboration with the Idlib Ministry of Education, the Qatar Foundation as a funder, and other regional stakeholders. ⁴⁰

Private schools generally allow greater flexibility, enabling Islamic practices, such as substituting recreation with prayer, to play a more prominent role in daily education and reinforce religious influence. DWS enjoys even greater autonomy, owing to its ties to HTS and the specific social composition of its student body. Although officially licensed by the Ministry of Education, the ministry does not interfere in DWS’s affairs. Instead, the schools operate according to their own internal system, supervised by independent committees. They design, print, and distribute their own curricula, with only religious textbooks developed in consultation with the Ministry of Religious Affairs (Wizarat al-Awqaf) in Idlib.

As Director Abu Ahmad al-Shawi explained, “The revolution was Islamic, but the environment and the education system did not reflect the will of society, so curriculum modification (taʿdīl al-manāhij) became necessary.” In many ways, DWS can be seen as the ideological counterpart to the formal shariʿa schools of the Assad era. The Qurʾan occupies a central place: students cannot progress beyond first grade without demonstrating proficiency in reading it, and advancement beyond the fourth or fifth grade requires memorizing all or most of the text, alongside study of Islamic jurisprudence and theology.

The curriculum is divided into four subject groups. The first and most important comprises religious subjects—Islamic studies (al-dirāsāt al-islāmiyya), manners (adab), Qurʾanic recitation (tajwīd), and Arabic, explicitly defined as “the language of the Qurʾan.” The second group covers the natural sciences (ʿulūm kawniyya), including English, mathematics, and biology. The third is social education (tarbiya ijtimāʿiyya), which combines history and geography. The fourth is physical education (tarbiya badanīyya).

Religious themes permeate the curriculum: textbooks in social studies, biology, English, and even mathematics are infused with religious references. Although the overall structure of these subjects aligns with both Western and traditional Syrian standards, their content is shaped by the goal of Islamic education. As Jihad al-Husayn explained, even the natural sciences are taught with an “Islamic character” (ṣabgha islāmiyya). This is especially evident in subjects not typically framed in religious terms. For instance, the importance of learning English is justified not only for global communication but also for building ties with the world’s 1.7 billion Muslims and for use in proselytization (daʿwa). ⁴¹ Meanwhile, the introduction to the fifth-grade biology (ʿulūm) textbook frames the subject within a religious worldview, stating: “This science textbook includes various elements that focus on building fundamental skills, developing concepts, and shaping a well-rounded Islamic personality. It instills Islamic values in the learner, combining scientific knowledge with Islamic truths derived from the Holy Qurʾan and the purified Sunna.” As one member of the curriculum development team explained to me, the overarching interpretive framework is grounded in the “Creator’s creativity” (ibdaʾ al-khāliq). In practice, this means that scientific and biological phenomena are explained with Qurʾanic references that are either directly or loosely related to the topic. In some cases, religious practices are given secular justifications. For instance, under the heading “How do you protect your health?” the textbook presents the pre-prayer ritual ablution (wuḍūʾ) as an example of hygienic self-care. ⁴²

Islamic symbolism infuses even mathematics: figures like al-Khwarizmi are portrayed as both algebraic pioneers and symbols of Islamic civilization. Exercises link geometry and calculation to Qurʾanic references and sacred sites—such as computing the Kaʿba’s volume alongside Qurʾan 2:127—merging devotional reflection with technical reasoning.

In general, elements of Baʿthist ideology, selected works of world literature, and any content deemed incompatible with Islam have been removed. These were replaced with stories drawn from the Qurʾan, Sunni Islamic history, and the Syrian uprising. Neutral, morally acceptable narratives were retained. For instance, the first-grade Lughat al-Qurʾan textbook includes La Fontaine’s fable “The Ant and the Grasshopper,” also familiar from Ibn al-Muqaffaʿ’s Kalila wa-Dimna.

Post-Salafism in the Classroom

DWS’s declared mission to cultivate an exceptional Qurʾanic generation, together with its rhetoric and outward symbols such as uniforms and classroom decorations, may suggest a Salafi orientation. This impression is strengthened by its endorsement of “the educational thought” of Ibn Qayyim al-Jawziyya, a key disciple of Ibn Taymiyya and major figure in the Salafi canon. ⁴³ Yet, reflecting broader post-Salafi trends and HTS’s own ideological shift, DWS does not identify as Salafi or “above the madhāhib,” but aligns itself with the Shafiʿi school. “We follow the Shafiʿi madhhab because it is the madhhab of the people of this land,” explained Abu Ahmad al-Shawi—an approach that parallels Merone and his colleagues’ findings in Tunisia. ⁴⁴ In practice, the Islamic studies curriculum in fifth and sixth grades situates Islam within a broad Sunni orthodoxy framed by the methodology of Ahl al-Sunna wa-l-Jamaʿa. The four schools of law are not named, and jurisprudential differences are omitted, although in ritual matters the texts prescribe a single set of rules without mentioning alternatives.

My reading of DWS’s Islamic studies and social studies textbooks alongside institutional practices reveals a mix of Salafi and post-Salafi elements. For example, although curriculum designers acknowledge that depicting faces, particularly eyes, is undesirable, most illustrated characters in the textbooks have fully drawn faces. Lacking in-house illustrators, DWS relies on freely available images and screenshots from Arabic cartoons, which depict culturally familiar settings and attire. The result is inconsistency: even a single page may contain figures with intact faces alongside others whose faces are erased.

In line with mainstream Salafi discourse, the introductions to the social studies books portray the contemporary intellectual climate as one of doctrinal, social, and educational distortion. They argue that godlessness dominates and that modern thought has become detached from Islam, contrasting this decline with a past when Muslims were leaders in knowledge and science. The texts lament that “the greatest catastrophe that broke the back of humanity was the removal of this religion from life” and call for a renewed “intellectual struggle” to reintegrate Islam into all aspects of existence.

Similarly, the Islamic studies books insist on exclusive reliance on the Qurʾan, the authentic sunna, and the example of the early generations. A section titled “The Methodology of Ahl al-Sunna wa-l-Jamaʿa in Creed” identifies these two sources, and “the consensus of the righteous predecessors (al-salaf al-ṣāliḥ)” as sources of belief, urging “purity of worship (tawhīd) for Allah and avoidance of shirk (associating partners with God) and innovations” as core obligations. This outlook stands in sharp contrast to the curriculum of Syrian government schools, which emphasize civic-national values. ⁴⁵

The curriculum’s theological content aligns closely with Salafi doctrine. Students are taught that belief must be derived from transmission (naql) rather than reason (ʿaql), a defining feature of Salafi epistemology. ⁴⁶ In the sixth-grade Islamic studies book, tawhīd is presented as “the greatest obligation” and divided into its classical Salafi components: rubūbiyya (God’s lordship), ulūhiyya (exclusive worship of God), and asmāʾ wa-ṣifāt (God’s names and attributes). ⁴⁷ Although these topics are not elaborated in depth, the examples of shirk—such as worship directed to anyone other than God—reflect familiar Salafi critiques of Sufi and Shiʿi devotional practices, albeit without naming them explicitly. ⁴⁸

A strong emphasis also is placed on combating “un-Islamic” innovations (bidʿa), another hallmark of Salafi thought. One sixth-grade lesson defines bidʿa as “worshipping Allah with something not prescribed by Allah or His Messenger” and declares every religious innovation categorically forbidden, enumerating examples of its dangers and consequences.

Although the DWS curriculum largely reflects Salafi doctrine, its institutional practices reveal a distinct hybridity. In several practical domains—particularly those with direct social and political relevance—DWS departs from classical Salafi positions, adopting approaches that align more closely with local cultural norms and the political objectives of HTS. For instance, whereas some Salafi scholars reject all forms of poetic performance in religious contexts, DWS actively promotes and showcases folk poets who enjoy social legitimacy, including figures like Abu Saʿid al-Fijani. ⁴⁹ This is justified by invoking the reasoning of Imam al-Shafiʿi, who regarded poetry as a valuable tool for conveying and internalizing religious meaning. ⁵⁰ In citizenship education terms, such pragmatic reinterpretations illustrate that a post-Salafi pedagogy may sustain social cohesion and behavioral discipline while reframing doctrinal rigidity as civic morality.

Although music is not formally prohibited in Idlib, DWS leadership explicitly considers instrumental music haram. Consequently, there is no music education, and school events feature only vocal performances, sometimes using digitally altered voices that imitate instruments. The same cautious approach extends to theater: although traditionally viewed as haram in mainstream Salafi thought, it is permitted within certain limits. The Cultural Center (Markaz Thaqafi) in Idlib and DWS schools occasionally stage plays that blend revolutionary themes with moral instruction. Female students, although often featured in social media posts reciting the Qurʾan or delivering speeches consistent with the DWS narrative, do not take part in these theatrical performances. One such play depicts Salah al-Din and Tariq ibn Ziyad returning from the past to morally guide two contemporary youth who embody negative stereotypes of aimlessness and disrespect. ⁵¹ In another play, children portray a future scenario in which former DWS students reunite as adults, each pursuing a respected profession while upholding the religious morals instilled during their school years. ⁵²

A New Identity: Muslim, Syrian, Revolutionary

Since 2018, HTS has moved away from Salafism and begun engaging with the broader public by promoting a distinctly Syrian identity. This shift is evident in its embrace of revolutionary symbols, such as the Syrian opposition flag, distributed to schools in 2022. ⁵³ Like other educational institutions, DWS schools incorporate national symbols in both classroom settings and public ceremonies. At the same time, they maintain a religious identity that sets them apart from state-run schools. “We view Syria as a Muslim society, and within that framework, we present its cultural diversity (al-tanawwuʿ al-thaqāfī),” the director explained when I asked him about the identity narrative conveyed through the school’s curriculum.

This narrative is illustrated in an English textbook in which a student introduces himself: “My name is Omar, I’m Muslim. I live in Syria. We speak Arabic. Our national costume is the thowb for men and abaya for women. We are learning [the] Qurʾan, Sunnah, and the good manners of the Prophet Muhammad (pbuh). We are practicing to follow him in everything.” ⁵⁴

This passage foregrounds religious identity over nationality, ethnicity, or age. Omar’s introduction includes cultural markers and gender-specific, Salafi-style dress. By labeling Salafi-style attire as the “national costume,” it normalizes these dress codes—mirroring DWS uniforms—while blending Islamic belief with Syrian nationalist and revolutionary themes. The ideal Syrian is portrayed as rooted in the umma, loyal to the revolution, and committed to martyrdom and the implementation of Islamic governance. This layered identity reflects what Quaynor describes as the re-embedding of citizenship in moral and collective narratives—here articulated through the idiom of both the Qurʾanic umma and the nation–state. ⁵⁵

The fifth-grade society textbook constructs layered identities through successive chapters. The opening lesson, “Living in the Islamic Society,” presents the child as part of the global Muslim community—“a group of individuals who share one religion, Islam, and turn in prayer to one qibla, Mecca.” ⁵⁶ The following chapter, “Getting to Know My Country,” localizes identity by introducing “beloved al-Sham” as both homeland and sacred land: “Syria is part of the land of al-Sham, which God blessed in the Qurʾan.” ⁵⁷ Syria appears not merely as a political entity but as a divinely favored space, with Damascus—“the oldest capital in history”—celebrated as a symbol of Islamic civilization.

Lesson 3, “The Levant is Part of the Islamic Nation,” expands this framework, linking Syria to the global Muslim umma through Qurʾan 3:110 (“You are the best nation brought forth for mankind”), fostering a sense of moral superiority and divine mission. ⁵⁸ The final layer, the revolutionary identity, appears in “The Blessed Levantine Revolution,” which idealizes Idlib as a heroic, purified refuge—the “green province” and last bastion of freedom and true Islam. ⁵⁹ The chapter highlights major uprising centers—Daraa, Homs, Damascus, and Hama—featuring “Revolution Squares” and an image of the Daraa children whose arrest sparked the revolt. A final exercise asks students, “What is our duty toward the martyrs of the Syrian revolution and the wounded and displaced from all Syrian provinces?” The given answer declares, “To remain steadfast on the path of the blessed revolution, continuing the struggle and jihād against the criminal regime and those who support it.”

This framing portrays the Syrian government not as a legitimate authority, but as a “criminal gang,” holding it responsible for ethnic cleansing and forced displacement. Similarly, foreign actors such as Russia and Iran are portrayed not as allies of the Syrian state, but rather as occupiers (muḥtallīn), a term that serves to delegitimize their presence and interventions in Syria. ⁶⁰ The text blames the regime, Russia, and Iran for displacement through indiscriminate bombing, while portraying Turkey as a refuge—reflecting the SSG’s reliance on Turkish protection and economic support. ⁶¹

(Re)Writing History

History is not taught as a separate subject, but rather within other lessons (such as lughat al-Qurʾan, social studies, and English), and primarily focuses on specific events, especially battles between Muslims and non-Muslims, and the lives of prominent Muslim figures.

Stories about figures deemed important appear in many places, but the sixth-grade society textbook devotes a 25-page chapter to them, including scholars like al-Khwarizmi and Omar Khayyam, as well as conquerors such as Musa bin Nusayr, “the second liberator of North Africa;” Tariq bin Ziyad, “conqueror of Andalusia;” Salah al-Din, “liberator of al-Quds;” and Muhammad al-Fatih, “opener of Constantinople.” Whereas in Baʿthist-era education non-Arab figures like the Berber Tariq bin Ziyad or the Kurdish Salah al-Din were often portrayed as Arabs, here their religious identity is emphasized instead. ⁶² In the case of Tariq bin Ziyad, his Berber origin is explicitly mentioned, underscoring the pan-Islamic character of his struggle. ⁶³ Facts that potentially undermine the religious approaches of DWS are ignored. For example, when discussing Omar al-Mukhtar and his fight against the Italian colonizers of Libya, no mention is made of his affiliation with the al-Sanusi Sufi order. ⁶⁴ When I asked about this, a member of the textbook development committee replied curtly, “We regard him as a great Muslim and mujahid.” Meanwhile, referred to by his epithet, “the Shaykh of Islam,” Ibn Taymiyya, idealized by many Salafis, is portrayed as a timeless model of courage, defiance, and spiritual clarity. His life is narrated through the lens of religious duty, resistance, and sacrifice, framing him as especially relevant to the contemporary Syrian context. ⁶⁵

The curriculum also highlights female exemplars: Rufaida, the Prophet’s companion and early medical pioneer; Sitt al-Sham, sister of Salah al-Din and symbol of female leadership; and Nusaybah bint Kaʿb, celebrated for defending the Prophet at Uhud. ⁶⁶ By presenting strong female role models and depicting Islam as supportive of women’s participation in science and public life, the curriculum challenges patriarchal and rigid Salafi notions that limit women’s public roles.

A sixth-grade society textbook chapter titled “Syria and Islamic History” offers one of the few thematic treatments of the past, tracing a linear narrative of Islamic greatness from the Abbasids through the Mamluks to the Ottoman Caliphate, whose prominence likely reflects HTS’s ties to Turkey. Cultivating caliphate nostalgia, the text celebrates Islamic rule not only for its cultural and administrative achievements but as an ideal model of divine governance and military strength. An accompanying illustration uses a single map for all three empires to depict the lands of Islam, which, according to contributors to the textbook, was intended to symbolize the caliphate’s universal authority over Muslims.

The second unit, “The Crusades and European Colonialism,” weaves together Islamic history, political grievance, and theological symbolism into a unified, mobilizing narrative of unbroken resistance. ⁶⁷ The curriculum adopts a civilizational conflict lens, portraying history as a continuous struggle between Islam and the Christian West. It begins with the Crusades, with aggressors bearing crosses on their shields, engaging in “savage acts” (aʿmāl waḥshiyya), and Muslims cast as pious defenders of sacred lands. The story jumps to the Sykes–Picot Agreement—framed as a modern betrayal that fragmented Muslim unity and enabled Zionist colonization. The French occupation of Syria is cast as renewed Christian vengeance, epitomized by General Gouraud’s visit to Salah al-Din’s tomb and his alleged words, “We have returned, O Salah al-Din.” This logic extends to the present: Russian intervention in Syria is likened to the historic Crusades, with images of Orthodox priests blessing warplanes and Putin at Salah al-Din’s tomb, reinforcing a narrative of perpetual Western aggression and religiously grounded Muslim resistance.

Jihad in an Era of Consolidation

By the conquest of Damascus in 2025, HTS had yet to articulate a clear narrative for its emerging postconflict identity. ⁶⁸ Although many jihadis around the globe, including a significant number of foreign fighters in the Syrian civil war, aspire to transcend nation–state boundaries and expand an Islamized sense of home by unifying Muslims into a de-territorialized umma, DWS, in alignment with HTS’s agenda, maintains a focused emphasis on Syria. “The blood of the martyrs that flowed on the land of al-Sham is a trust upon all our necks. We promise Allah to continue the path of jihad until victory,” one lesson states. ⁶⁹ A framed box explicitly asks: “What is our duty toward the martyrs of the revolution?” The listed answers are: “Defend the blessed land of al-Sham” and “Continue the jihad.” ⁷⁰

The topic of jihad is particularly sensitive in the context of the DWS, as many students are the children of fighters from jihadi factions. It is addressed both explicitly and implicitly across the curriculum, appearing in subjects such as Islamic studies, language of the Qurʾan, and English. The material presents jihad as a heroic struggle, directly linking historical Muslim warriors (mujahidin) to modern concepts of warfare. For example, an English lesson on past and present tenses includes the sentence: “In the past, our Muslim mujahideen didn’t have tanks, bullets, bombs, or machine guns, but they had swords, shields, and arrows.” ⁷¹ Jihad is portrayed as a cornerstone of historical Islamic power, and its abandonment is directly linked to the decline of the Muslim world. As the above-mentioned chapter on the Crusades states, “The Muslims were the strongest nation on Earth because of their dedication to Jihad in the path of Allah.” ⁷² In addition, the sixth-grade Islamic studies curriculum devotes an entire chapter to jihad, presenting it as both a spiritual obligation and a transformative social force. It combines religious devotion with narratives that emphasize the moral and existential significance of jihad, including references to the consequences of abandoning it. ⁷³

Since 2017 northwestern Syria has been under rebel governance, with a ceasefire with regime forces established in 2020, and armed struggle has taken a back seat to governance for both the SSG and HTS. In a postconflict turn, DWS textbooks broaden the concept of jihad for children by emphasizing moral and symbolic acts, such as prayer, charity, and disseminating news about fighters, rather than physical combat. Through the lesson titled “Love of Jihad,” the curriculum aims to instill admiration for the mujahid mindset and encourage age-appropriate forms of participation, including supplication (duʿāʾ), almsgiving (ṣadaqa), and promoting awareness about the mujahidin. ⁷⁴

Although HTS has distanced itself from global jihad, the sixth-grade Islamic studies book includes a section on “Jihadi Movements That Declared Jihad against the Disbelievers in the Present Era” that introduces students to various armed conflicts in Afghanistan, Palestine, Kashmir, Chechnya, and the Philippines as legitimate and divinely sanctioned sites of jihad. ⁷⁵ The textbook condemns leaderless or anarchic violence, noting that jihad must be declared by an Islamic government. However, it immediately undermines this constraint by labeling groups from these regions as “legitimate movements” (ḥarakāt mashrūʿa). Notably, the countries of origin of many jihadists residing in northwestern Syria, such as China, Uzbekistan, and various Arab states, are absent from the listed conflicts, rendering the concept of transnational jihad a largely abstract issue and of little political risk.

As HTS moved to consolidate its position—particularly in managing its stance toward Israel and its relationship with the United States—DWS founder ʿAbd al-Rahman al-Ghazzi, a prominent advocate of the Palestinian cause, was dismissed from the school following the outbreak of the Gaza conflict in October 2023. Throughout the two years of the conflict, DWS regularly expressed solidarity with the people of Gaza, yet its public statements regarding Israel remained notably restrained. In this way, DWS recasts jihad as a moral and educational principle rather than a call to arms, aligning it with HTS’s post-Salafi project of moral governance and the cultivation of a disciplined Islamic citizenry.

Coexistence with Non-Muslims

Between 2013 and 2015, Druze and Christian communities in northwest Syria faced displacement, abductions, and forced conversions amid jihadist infighting. After consolidating control, HTS sought to rebuild relations by ensuring their safety and limited religious freedom, presenting this as proof of its governing capacity. ⁷⁶ Aligned with HTS, DWS promotes coexistence and ethical conduct toward non-Muslims rather than hostility or conversion.

DWS frames the Syrian uprising as a sacred struggle, exemplified by a textbook statement: “On that blessed day, March 15, 2011, our proud people rose in revolution against the Nusayri infidel regime.” ⁷⁷ Although using sectarian language that aligns with the rhetoric of the Islamist opposition, DWS textbooks do not directly criticize Alawite theological doctrines. Statements like this one about the uprising are less concerned with doctrinal polemics and instead oriented toward the political goal of mobilization against the Alawite-dominated regime. No other faith communities or sects are explicitly mentioned in the curriculum, which also suggests an ethically oriented engagement with the religious Other. For instance, the Islamic studies textbook instructs: “Do not be quick to describe others as sinners or disobedient. . . . This is not your role.” ⁷⁸ Drawing on prophetic traditions, the curriculum encourages kindness, integrity, and filial piety, even toward non-Muslims. Students are taught that it is permissible to give charity and financial assistance to non-Muslim relatives, reflecting an ethic of kinship that transcends religious boundaries. The duty to honor one’s parents is underscored regardless of their faith, affirming gratitude and obedience as values that rise above sectarian divides. And lessons stress that Islam promotes gentleness, mercy, and fairness in dealings with non-Muslims, portraying the religion as inclusive and ethical rather than insular or combative. These values are reinforced through student exercises that frame ethics as a vehicle for religious outreach. For example, a worksheet asks students to sort behaviors into those that attract or repel others from Islam, contrasting kindness, mercy, and trustworthiness with lying, disrespect, theft, and even sorcery. Similarly, a social studies textbook includes a lesson on the Prophet’s interactions that instructs students to be honest and kind with non-Muslim neighbors and acquaintances. Exercises ask them to select the Prophet’s correct attitude, such as “truthfulness with them and not lying to them” and “fulfilling covenants and agreements with them,” while excluding options like insulting or deceiving.

Although the curriculum does not address the place of non-Muslims in society and politics, or their dhimmī (a non-Muslim subject under Islamic rule) status, its focus on personal ethics rather than doctrinal acceptance of religious others allows room for interpretations conducive to coexistence. As Abu Ahmad al-Shawi put it to me, “Syria is like a family.”

Conclusion: Moral Governance and the Making of a Post-Salafi Citizenry

Founded during a period of political consolidation in rebel-held northwestern Syria, the DWS school network developed a hybrid educational model that blends Salafi traditions with pragmatic adaptations shaped by the broader post-Salafi evolution of its political and financial patron, HTS. The scale and quality of DWS’s services exceed those of most public schools in the region in infrastructure, student support, and teacher pay. Backed by HTS and the Syrian Salvation Government, DWS was originally established to educate the children of Islamist fighters, but it has since evolved into a key arena of nation-building. Through its curriculum, the school system reinforces the official political narrative while helping integrate fighters’ families into society. It promotes a sense of Syrian national identity while operating within patterns of political loyalty and parental alignment shaped by HTS rule, linking these to children’s education and well-being. The inclusion of foreign fighters’ children and the blending of religious and national identity within a post-Salafi framework further position DWS as a strategic arena of social and political consolidation in a fragile, divided environment.

The trajectory of DWS demonstrates a post-Salafi movement transforming religious renewal into concrete institutional and educational forms, turning schooling into a central arena for moral and social governance. Its curriculum reflects HTS’s broader effort to move beyond the rigid doctrinairism and political quietism of classical Salafism by combining reformist Salafi learning with a new sense of community and civic responsibility. DWS emphasizes collective moral renewal, discipline, and social responsibility, aims that echo the principles of citizenship education in postconflict settings. Through Qurʾanic learning, moral instruction, and stories of sacrifice, DWS seeks to form a post-Salafi citizen-subject: someone who retains Salafi ethical authenticity but is integrated into a new social and political order under HTS rule. In the language of citizenship education, this marks a move from personal moral reform to institutionalized moral citizenship, linking religious education directly to HTS’s wider project of governance and legitimacy.

The DWS schools therefore act as sites of post-Salafi social transformation, translating theological change into educational practice and transforming Salafi moral capital into a new vision of belonging and order. One thing seems to be clear: given the number of children DWS educates and the social and political roles of their families, it will likely shape Syria’s religious and political future for years to come. Yet it remains uncertain whether DWS can sustain this role in a post-Assad era, when the challenges of nation- and state-building will extend beyond the provincial level. How affiliated Islamists respond to HTS’s moderate turn will be decisive. In this sense, DWS stands as an experiment at the crossroads of post-Salafi reform and postconflict citizenship education; it redefines civic belonging through Qurʾanic moral language while embedding it within HTS’s broader effort at political normalization.

In April 2025, Idlib’s football stadium hosted a ceremony honoring 1,500 Qurʾan memorizers. The attendance of Minister of Religious Endowments Muhammad Abu al-Khayr Shukri signaled DWS’s formal recognition within the new order. Speakers praised Syria’s “liberation,” and a new anthem, “We Have Come to You in Response, Oh DWS,” was performed by students and adults. Its music video, later released on YouTube, intercuts HTS fighters, security forces, and President Ahmad al-Sharaʿ’s victory speech at the Umayyad Mosque, glorifying the mujahidin. The song praises the mujahidin, declaring: “You led us—you are the pride / Of our ummah—you restored / You restored the glory of our past.” As the song goes on, it also offers a warning: “So beware, and let us beware, of arrogance—even for a moment! For God’s aid will not remain with those who do not support the religion.” Later, it continues: “So understand, our beloved, we have advised the rejection of the West / And we raise the truth again—by a shariʿa that flows through us.”

The warning is striking given al-Sharaʿ’s moderate policies. Although voiced indirectly, it addresses the government in God’s name with a conciliatory tone, blending alignment with subtle admonition. It also urges HTS and DWS followers to resist ghurūr (arrogance) after victory, implying conditional allegiance and reaffirming their moral guardianship over the revolution’s legacy.