A Syrian attempt for influence in Tripoli?

Recent developments in Tripoli have once again brought to the surface long-standing sensitivities surrounding sovereignty, identity, and the fine line between humanitarian assistance and political signaling. A Syrian aid convoy sent to the al-Tabbaneh neighborhood quickly moved beyond the context of relief work and into the arena of national debate.

What might otherwise have been viewed as a gesture of solidarity toward a city grappling with economic collapse and social hardship instead prompted questions about intent, messaging, and historical interpretation. Indeed, since the fall of the Assad regime on 8 December 2024 and the rise of Hay’at Tahrir al-Sham (HTS) to power under Interim President Ahmad al-Sharaa, narratives of a broader “Sunni revival” have gained traction, with some voices even advocating closer political alignment between Tripoli and Damascus.

In this context, the aid shipment became more than a humanitarian initiative; it evolved into a reflection of Lebanon’s internal vulnerabilities and the persistent influence of regional dynamics on its domestic affairs.

Influence under the guise of humanitarian aid?

The aforementioned assistance arrived to Tripoli bearing the new Syrian flag and a banner stating, “From al-Sham to our people in Tripoli al-Sham,” a phrase with historical and political connotations. Sharaa has reportedly expressed the view that Tripoli paid a heavy price in defense of the Syrian revolution and therefore occupies a special place in what he describes as the “new Syria.” While the aid itself was ostensibly humanitarian, its symbolic framing transformed it into a matter of national debate, particularly given Lebanon’s long and sensitive history with its neighbor.

The shipment reached Tripoli at a moment of acute distress. The city has been grappling with a severe neglect and economic downturn compounded by the recent collapse of several residential buildings, events that have deepened social vulnerability and intensified public frustration. Yet instead of centering public attention on urgent humanitarian relief, the political symbolism attached to the convoy overshadowed its practical purpose. For many observers, the imagery and rhetoric accompanying the aid appeared to blur the line between solidarity and political messaging, raising questions about intent and long-term implications.

This event highlights a broader and more troubling reality: the growing vacuum in effective state support for Tripoli, Lebanon’s second-largest city and historically one of its most marginalized urban centers. Underdevelopment, high unemployment, and limited public investment have long strained the city’s social fabric. In such an environment, external assistance can easily assume political overtones. When the central state fails to meet the basic needs of its citizens, it creates conditions in which outside actors may step in, sometimes coupling humanitarian outreach with narratives that serve strategic or ideological objectives. After all, nature abhors vacuum; where governance recedes, alternative influences inevitably advance.

Does Tripoli historical belong to Syria?

The question of whether Tripoli was part of Syria before 1920 often resurfaces in political and media discourse, largely due to the historical naming “Tripoli of the Levant” (Tripoli al-Sham), which distinguished it from Libya’s Tripoli in North Africa rather than implying subordination to Damascus. Historically, Tripoli functioned as a distinct administrative and political entity within successive Islamic empires. From the Umayyad and Abbasid periods through the Seljuk, Ayyubid, Mamluk, and Ottoman eras, the Levant (Bilad al-Sham) was divided into major provinces, including the provinces of Beirut, Damascus, Aleppo, and Tripoli. The Province of Tripoli held a prominent position along the eastern Mediterranean coast, at times extending its influence from the northern edges of present-day Lebanon to parts of the Syrian coast. It was not administratively subordinate to the Province of Damascus, nor was there ever a unified Syrian state incorporating Tripoli prior to the 20th century. Importantly, the borders that later defined modern Syria and Lebanon did not correspond to any pre-existing sovereign Syrian republic from which Tripoli could have been “detached.”

The proclamation of the State of Greater Lebanon on 1 September 1920 by French General Henri Gouraud formalized new political boundaries under the French Mandate. Decree No. 318 explicitly incorporated the district of Tripoli and parts of its former sanjak into Greater Lebanon, while other portions were allocated to neighboring entities such as the Alawite State. This arrangement indicates that if territorial transfers occurred, they involved segments of the former Province of Tripoli being redistributed, rather than Tripoli being separated from a consolidated Syrian state. Although segments of Tripoli’s political elite initially debated the merits of joining Syria or embracing the new Lebanese entity, the city participated in the representative councils of Greater Lebanon and later in the drafting of the 1926 Constitution. Over time, Tripoli became firmly embedded within the Lebanese political framework. Contemporary claims suggesting a historical basis for annexing Tripoli to Syria confuse Ottoman provincial geography with modern nationalism and overlook the absence of a pre-1920 Syrian sovereign state encompassing the city. A careful reading of administrative history thus demonstrates that Tripoli was not part of Syria before 1920 in the sense implied by current political rhetoric.

From here, when one refers to al-Sham, it explicitly constitutes the geographical area of the Levant (encompassing modern-day Lebanon, Syria, Jordan, and Palestine). In this sense, Tripoli, similar to all cities in the aforementioned countries, is part of the Levant (al-Sham). However, this does not mean that it is, or was, part of Syria, considering what we have previously outlined.

In conclusion, the controversy surrounding the Syrian aid shipment reflects more than a dispute over flags or slogans. It underscores the delicate intersection between humanitarian relief and political symbolism within Lebanon’s fragile landscape. In a city already marked by economic hardship and periodic instability, gestures perceived as encroaching upon sovereignty or identity can inflame latent tensions. Ultimately, the incident serves as a stark reminder of the Lebanese government’s responsibility to act decisively; by addressing Tripoli’s immediate crises, restoring confidence in public institutions, and ensuring that the city’s future is shaped by national policy rather than external intervention.