Ahmed al Sharaa’s new parliament is seated. The urgent question is simple and immediate. Will this body be a genuine forum for Syrians or a carefully staged reassurance for foreign capitals and investors?
On October 5, 2025, local electoral college delegates elected 119 deputies to a 210-seat People’s Assembly. President Ahmed al Sharaa will personally appoint one-third of the assembly, that is, 70 deputies. Voting was postponed in parts of the Kurdish north and in the Druze province of Suwayda, leaving exactly 21 seats vacant.
Legitimacy is the clearest shortcoming, and it is measurable from day one. Only six of the 119 deputies chosen by electoral colleges are women, and exactly ten of those seats are held by religious or ethnic minorities, figures that expose stark representational gaps.
The vote was indirect: roughly 6,000 electoral college delegates cast ballots after being selected by a ten-member Higher Committee appointed by the presidency, a setup authorities call pragmatic because of massive demographic displacement and missing civil registries.
New Structures, Old Hierarchy
Civil society has framed the problem sharply. Bassam al Ahmad of Syrians for Truth and Justice said, “You can call the process what you like, but not elections. There is no electoral process; it’s not an election, it’s a selection.” Those exact numbers matter because an assembly’s authority ultimately rests on whom it protects and represents, not on the ritual of a vote.
Power in this design is concentrated in precise institutional ways that matter for real outcomes. The executive appointed the committee that vetted local delegates, and the appeals bodies that resolve candidate disputes are linked to the executive rather than to an independent judiciary, giving the presidency decisive influence over who sits in parliament.
Haid Haid of Chatham House reflected this duality when he told reporters the presidential right to appoint one-third of deputies can be used to “correct representation gaps” but equally to “shape a compliant assembly.” That structural concentration is not abstract. It determines who chairs finance and procurement committees, who writes procurement rules, and how transitional justice is framed. Those choices will shape who benefits from reconstruction contracts and who is excluded from decision-making.
A short constitutional article explains why this matters. Article 30 of the 2025 Constitutional Declaration empowers the People’s Assembly to propose, approve, amend, or repeal laws; ratify international treaties; approve the state budget; issue general amnesty; lift immunity; and hold ministerial hearings. In practice this body can write the legal rules for reconstruction, procurement, decentralization, and transitional justice. That is why representation and institutional independence are not secondary technicalities. They determine whether rules are written to reinforce inclusion and oversight or to fast-track deals and entrench patronage and elitism.
The political calendar has an unmistakable economic signal. Al Sharaa has used diplomatic forums, including the United Nations, and meetings with Gulf and Western delegations to solicit reconstruction pledges and investor interest. Policy analysts at the Carnegie Endowment warn that rapid reconstruction contracts without transparent procurement rules and independent oversight risk recreating clientelist networks and concentrating wealth among insiders.
Benjamin Fève of Karam Shaar Advisory told the Associated Press that missing population data made direct electoral lists impractical, a logistical reality that the authorities cite to justify the indirect vote. But logistical reality and political design are not the same. A parliament that lacks inclusion and independence is a weak check on executive decisions that can privilege fast capital flows over accountable governance.
Who fills the empty seats will shape the Parliament’s course.
What will decide whether this Assembly is substantive or cosmetic are three narrow, testable moves in the coming weeks.
First, will Al Sharaa use his 70 appointments to remedy the gender and minority shortfall and seed genuinely independent oversight bodies, or will he populate those seats with loyalists?
Second, will the Assembly promptly pass procurement transparency rules and an independent audit mechanism and set a clear timetable to fill the 21 vacant seats in Suwayda and the Kurdish northeast, or will those measures be deferred?
Third, will deputies exercise Article 30 powers to enshrine decentralization, judicial independence, and structural protections for minorities, or will those reforms be subordinated to immediate reconstruction deals?
Voices on the ground capture the trade-off in human terms. A Latakia electoral college member told Reuters she was proud to cast a vote but noted the absence of public campaigning and debate that define genuine elections. A rights activist also stated that deputies must show results in governance, jobs, and safety or risk renewed unrest.
The next measure of credibility will not be speeches. It will be committee rosters, procurement rules, and the composition of appeals and oversight panels. If appointments and early laws broaden participation and enforce transparent procurement, conditional investment can proceed while political inclusion deepens. If the Assembly becomes a vehicle to fast-track opaque reconstruction deals, economic capture will follow, and exclusion will again drive instability.
The assembly is convened, and the clock has started. Syrians and external partners will watch whether power is shared and rights are protected or whether power is guarded and profits are privatized. The difference will determine whether this parliament mends Syria or merely rebrands the same rule.
