The Syrian streets, long oppressed by the Assad regime, are now living in an unending state of euphoria and an implicit sense of victory. And while the joy of Syrians is justified, a nation completely destroyed like Syria requires more rational voices and less frenzied sectarian fervor.

Living under a “narcissistic government” doesn’t only mean the leadership is obsessed with appearances and visual spectacle; it also means being surrounded by a political discourse that constantly redefines reality to preserve the image, not the truth.

In post-Assad Syria, the new government has attempted to present itself as the opposite of its predecessor: a young leadership, a new discourse, and signs of “civil austerity.” What initially seemed like an effort to differentiate soon morphed into the constant production of the image of the “natural leader,” always close to the people, always present.

The “president” walks around normally, eats in restaurants. The foreign minister is suddenly shown praying in a mosque. Government ministers casually mingle with the public—appearing in markets, airports, and eateries.

But with all this focus on image, the more crucial questions vanish: What about the massacres in the coastal region? The massacres in Sweida? What about the exclusion of Kurds from the constitution? What about the complete lack of true representation for Syria’s diverse communities? Why is mere criticism of government policy enough to be labeled a traitor or part of the old regime?

The dominant discourse cannot tolerate critique. Responses aren’t delivered through reasoning or explanation, but through mobilization and accusations of betrayal. The government doesn’t just stick to its narrative, it actively eliminates anything that contradicts it. This isn’t merely authoritarian behavior; it is part of a broader psychological pattern: collective narcissism.

Collective Narcissism: When the Image of the Group Matters More Than Its Reality

Scholar Agnieszka Golec de Zavala defines collective narcissism as “an inflated belief in the greatness of one’s group, coupled with the feeling that others don’t appreciate it enough.” This is more than pride, it’s a defensive psychological structure born of a lack of recognition, producing hypersensitivity to any form of critique, even if the criticism isn’t directed at the group itself. According to her studies, this is not an individual trait, it’s a collective one. Governments can directly nurture it by promoting narratives of collective victimhood, exaggerating historical superiority, and justifying internal repression as a form of group protection.

Examples include dismissing the massacre at Mar Elias Church on the basis that Assad’s victims far outnumber those killed in that incident. Or saying, “Where were you 14 years ago?” Or reducing the entire Syrian revolution to a single anti-Israel military response. Or the phrase “whoever liberates decides”—these aren’t just Facebook comments. They reflect deeper trends among today’s supporters of the new government.

I don’t find this widespread denial or knee-jerk diversion strange, as it’s directly reinforced by government policy.

Studies show that collective narcissism doesn’t stop at fabricating external enemies, it creates internal ones as well.

When the Collective Becomes the Victim of its Own Image

The real danger of this euphoric high is that it doesn’t bode well—not only because of its bloody repercussions on other segments of the Syrian population, such as the incitement against Sweida following an audio recording that insulted the Prophet Muhammad, or the mass mobilization and slogans like “Arm us, enlist us,” but also because collective narcissism weakens a group’s ability to self-correct. Instead of motivating individuals to improve their community’s reality, their priorities shift toward how their group appears to others, even if the reality is fragile and riddled with failures. It becomes a sustained state of denial and excuses like “Give them time.”

In this mindset, the question is no longer whether the government delivers justice or represents everyone. What matters is whether it looks strong and well-liked internationally. Thus, engaging in praise and amplification becomes part of what is expected as “loyalty.”

In this way, the government’s audience indirectly contributes to weakening the potential for change and reform. They reproduce the same narrative, attack dissenters, and collude in silencing accountability.

A Narcissistic Audience Can Be Just as Dangerous as Its Government

The truth is that a vessel overflows with what’s inside it. Symbolic violence directed outward inevitably finds a way to be redirected inward. Collective narcissism, as studies show, doesn’t stop at fabricating external enemies, it creates internal ones too.

A recent experimental study found that individuals with high levels of collective narcissism show a strong tendency to shame, accuse, and even conspire against members of their own group if they feel those individuals don’t represent the group in a “respectable” or “patriotic” enough manner.

In simpler terms: when the image of the group becomes more important than its values—when preserving this inflated image takes precedence over telling the truth or correcting course—dangerous dynamics emerge within the group itself. What follows is a kind of symbolic purging from within: the symbolic elimination of those deemed “inconsistent with the narrative” or “tarnishing the image of the group.”

This doesn’t require a central repressive authority. All it takes is a narcissistic public, hypersensitive to criticism and emotionally invested in performing an ideal image of the group, for the audience itself to become an invisible mechanism of control.

This tendency is not exceptional. It’s a measurable psychological pattern that recurs in societies where identity is built on an untouchable sense of symbolic entitlement. When the group’s worth is reduced to its appearance or its rhetoric, solidarity becomes conditional on silence, and belonging becomes contingent on conformity. Any deviation, no matter how valid, is treated as an existential threat.

And here lies the greatest danger of collective narcissism: it does not merely exclude the “other,” it suppresses diversity within the group itself. It redefines “loyalty” as agreement on form, not on purpose. As a result, politics is hollowed out, no accountability, no representation, no public debate. All that remains is the facade of a state, recycling itself through a language of perpetual exception, perpetual threat, and perpetual triumph.

What are we facing in Syria today? Is denial, rejection of criticism, and celebration of surface over substance solely the government’s choice? Or has it become a culture that now shapes the thinking of its own base?

Is the question “Is the new government narcissistic?” the right one to ask? Or is it rather: “As you are, so shall your rulers be”?

What if some of us today are simply reproducing the same exclusionary mechanisms once used by the regime? How do we distinguish between supporting our community and dissolving into its rhetoric? Are we able to tell the difference between loyalty and complicity?