Marota City stands as an emblematic example of juridic dispossession in Syria. The project began when Decree 66 was signed in 2012, a legislative decree that gave the Assad regime a legal basis to dispossess the residents of two areas of ‘informal settlements’ in Damascus and redevelop them through luxury real estate projects, with little or no compensation granted to the former residents¹. What on paper appeared as legal procedure and security policy resulted in dispossession; the demolition of entire neighbourhoods was used as a strategy to punish dissent and reward loyalty towards the regime.² The case shows how law was used as a demographic engineering tool with consequences still playing out.³

Of the 7,500 families that were dispossessed in 2017 from the area now called Marota City, 5,500 were legally entitled to ‘alternative housing’ that was still not in place at the fall of the regime, making it more than eight years of housing insecurity that is still ongoing.⁴ These numbers do not take into account the many families that did not meet the requirements to claim compensation, alternative housing, or rent allowance. In Marota City, legal dispossession is what laid the ground for forced eviction by destruction.⁵ But the dispossession of housing does not just relate to loss of property. As a Syrian man states in an interview with Syria Report: ‘The home I had built for my family among the orchards no longer exists. We found ourselves in smaller, lower-quality houses. Family problems increased. We were forcibly separated from relatives, neighbours, and our entire community.’ The loss of property directly relates to a loss in relations and connections to wider communities. The new government has introduced initiatives to undo the unjust dispossession of people during the former regime. A recent report has deemed the initiatives ‘promising’, although they ‘remain limited in scope and impact’.⁶ In a transitional phase, putting structures in place that help people regain their former land and properties is of vital importance.

Mechanisms of dispossession

In order to understand what is needed to recover from dispossession, one key question must be asked. What does it mean to hold something within your possession in the first place? What is necessary to regain a feeling of possession over what has been lost? A better understanding can be gained by taking a closer look at the word possession. It is composed of two parts: the first is *potis — a latin word with a puzzling double meaning signifying both ‘mastery’ and ‘self-identity’.⁷ In this context, the double meaning of the word can be understood as, on one hand, having agency over something that is not yourself and, on the other, that that other thing resonates with your sense of identity. The second part of the word stems from sedeō — a latin verb meaning ‘to sit’. Possession is thus intrinsically spatial. In its literal sense, it’s about having a place to sit, a space for your body within the world: it is both about owning and the feeling of ownership. Regaining possession is thus not just about reappropriating legal ownership, but also about re-identifying and feeling part of decision-making in the spaces you inhabit — in and beyond the walls of the home. 

The importance of the home cannot be disputed, but regaining a feeling of possession must also be viewed in an expanded field. In this view, it is also about reclaiming shared spaces after times of war. In the case of Marota city, the dispossession was juridical, making the tools used to undo dispossession work within a legal field as well. But how do you reclaim a site you never legally owned? What does it mean to be dispossessed from something that isn’t strictly yours? What other modes of dispossession exist? As well as undoing the dispossession of private property, a just transition must also take into account the dispossession that is not necessarily juridic, but more connected to a connection with a place in a wider field. In order to regain possession, connections must be rebuilt as well, and the symbolic meaning attributed to sites in the public realm must be reconfigured. It is a collective project insofar as its goal is to give the people a sense of ownership of those places.

Mount Qasioun

December 2024. From the slopes of Mount Qasioun, one can see the flickering of lights from the city down below as the sun sets behind the mountain. Situated in the northwestern outskirts of Damascus, and culminating at 1,150m, Mount Qasioun provides an unmatched view of the city.⁸

Families gather on plastic chairs scattered along the edge of the viewpoint, taking in the views and fresh air, chatting, smoking shisha, and sharing snacks from food vendors. For the younger people there, this might be the first time they climb up the mountain: it had been inaccessible for 14 years prior to that, as the Assad regime turned it into a military site shortly after the eruption of the war in 2011. For the older generations, this visit might bring up memories of time spent there before it was closed off.⁹

After the fall of Assad, the mountain remained publicly accessible for a few months, during which Damascus residents visited it in droves. As the transitional government of Ahmad al-Sharaa came into power in March 2025, access to Mount Qasioun was shut off again.

Land dispossession can take many forms and is not limited to the loss of domestic space, as in the case of Marota City, but can also include the loss of sites that foster human and non-human communities. In order to showcase these two dimensions of dispossession, we have juxtaposed Marota City with a recent development project on Mount Qasioun. The two projects are inherently different, but both work to highlight mechanisms of dispossession, and give a better understanding of how to regain possession in a just transition.

Within our expanded understanding of possession, we argue that real estate development on Mount Qasioun risks enacting a form of dispossession, due to the absence of public engagement in decision-making. The mountain serves as an interesting case study in this context because it can be seen as an asset in several but contradictory ways. Firstly, its cultural significance and the potential joy it can bring the people; secondly, its strategic position in a time of militarisation and securitisation; thirdly, its views work to enrich real estate value on the site; and lastly, its environmental value. As our analysis shows, these four interests cannot be reclaimed at the same time, but some must be prioritised over others. We argue that a prioritisation like this must be made through inclusive and transparent decision-making in order for a just transition to take place.

Mount Qasioun as a cultural asset

When the area was reopened after the fall of the Assad regime, it showed the mountain’s potential value to the people. The mountain is thus an important cultural asset and holds deep symbolic significance for residents of Damascus as well as Syrians in general.¹⁰ Historically, it is a place of pilgrimage due to its many religious sites, most notably the Cave of Blood, where Cain is believed to have killed Abel.¹¹ But this is only in certain areas of the mountain. Before the start of the conflict, its many other slopes were a refuge from the city where the citizens of Damascus could gather and take in the view of their city.¹² The period during which the site was reopened shows the potential of the mountain as an asset for the public to reconcile with the city and reclaim the militarisation that took place during the regime.

Mount Qasioun as a military asset

The views from the mountain do not only hold value to civilians, but also function as a key strategic site during times of war. The view can be seen as a military asset. From the war onwards, the mountain was strictly closed off to the public by the Assad regime and converted into a military base. During this time, tunnels were dug deep within the mountain, linking the military base to the presidential palace.¹⁴ These tunnels were revealed after the fall of the regime.

Within this expansive network were rooms for soldiers and storage for ammunition and weapons. The choice of closing the mountain for military purposes can be read along the lines of what Eyal Weizman has called the politics of verticality. Weizman argues that territorial control cannot be limited to the flattened understanding of areal control, but also has to be thought through a vertical axis: from the aerial oversight from the mountaintop to the depth of the mountain.¹⁵ With the vast military complex on the slopes, the meaning of mount Qasioun thus got reconfigured during the war. It became a mountain looming in the horizon that made the military a constant presence within the city.

Mount Qasioun as an environmental asset

Mount Qasioun can also be viewed as an asset for its environmental value. A prism for this aspect is the case of the Iris Damascena, an endangered species of iris only known to grow on the eastern slopes of Qasioun. It has been described as being in danger of extinction since 1976, but was never granted any kind of protected status by Syrian authorities.¹⁷

A 2016 assessment found that the Iris Damascena would be threatened by large-scale earth movement associated with urban development. As such, its location next to the military base was beneficial, as it prevented the risk of development on the mountaintop that would lead to its extinction.¹⁸ Concern about the environmental hazards of unmanaged sewage discharge in the area has also been raised. This points towards how the Mountain holds value to non-human communities as well.

Mount Qasioun as a real estate asset

With the constitutional declaration of March 2025, executive power was vested onto Ahmad al-Sharaa’s new government. In particular, article 42.5 granted it full authority over ‘state facilities’, which includes the previously militarised areas of Mount Qasioun.¹⁹ Access to the mountain was restricted again to the public, and reports appeared soon after of construction work taking place on the mountaintop.

The nature of the works has not been divulged by the authorities, nor has any information surrounding investors or contracted companies. Some sources have suggested the works are for a five-star hotel, restaurants, and commercial facilities, fuelling concern among Damascus residents over the future of the site and its accessibility.²⁰

In an effort to quell these concerns, the Damascus Governorate issued a statement claiming that the works consist of the rehabilitation of public amenities, the creation of public recreational space, as well as general site upgrades.²¹ However, fears of commercial development resurfaced after the Syrian-Saudi Investment Forum (SSIF) of July 2025. The SSIF presented Saudi investors with a portfolio of investment opportunities totalling an estimated $15.3Bn. These include $5Bn for the development of a ‘Tourist City’ project on Mount Qasioun, as well as $16M for the development of a ‘Qasioun Hill Hotel’ on the slopes of the mountain.²² The timeline below presents an overview of the developments on Mount Qasioun.

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December 2024

Fall of the Assad regime. Damascenes return to Mount Qasioun for the first time in 14 years.²³

March 2025

The Constitutional Declaration grants the government of Ahmad al-Sharaa executive authority over ‘state facilities’.²⁴ Access to Mount Qasioun becomes restricted again.

June 2025

Journalist Moussa Al Omar posts a video of construction works on Mount Qasioun, referring to it as the site of a future five-star hotel.²⁵ This sparks concern among Damascus residents.²⁶

June 2025

The Damascus Governorate issues a statement providing clarification on the nature of the works. They say the works consist mainly of rehabilitation of public infrastructure.²⁷

July 2025

The Syrian-Saudi Investment Forum is held in Damascus. Saudi investors are presented with investment opportunities, including a $5bn ‘Tourist City’ project on Mount Qasioun and a $16M ‘Qasioun Hill Hotel’.²⁸

Spatial analysis

The lack of information on the developments on Mount Qasioun made it necessary to seek other tools to gain a better understanding. Through spatial analysis and 3D-modelling, we are able to establish an understanding of the works happening on the mountain. In doing so, we aim to verify the scale and location of these works, in an attempt to amplify the voices of concerned Damascus residents.

Our methodology consists in geolocating 22 images and videos captured on Mount Qasioun between January and October 2025 and uploaded to social media websites. Some of these were captured after the reopening of Mount Qasioun following the fall of Assad, and show the return of Damascus residents to the site. Others were captured after access to Mount Qasioun was restricted again, and show construction work at several sites on the mountaintop.

As previously mentioned, the reopening of Qasioun following the fall of Assad prompted droves of Damascus residents to visit it. People returned to the places they remembered, or visited the mountain for the first time, capturing these moments in images and on video. We geolocated five of these in order to build a picture of Mount Qasioun as understood by Damascus residents themselves. It lets us imagine what public space on Mount Qasioun could look like, and informs us on the places upon which Damascenes felt able to exercise agency and ownership.

Map of Mount Qasioun. Blue dots indicate geolocated videos and images showing people making use of public space on Mount Qasioun.

12 geolocated videos show construction work on Mount Qasioun. These were published online by both journalists and internet influencers who were given access to the site. These videos show earthworks and the construction of buildings along the road leading to the mountaintop. The nature of the works remains elusive, with various videos contradicting both each other and the statement by the Damascus Governorate. The people speaking in the videos, including journalists and construction workers, mention a five-star hotel, restaurants, terraces, resting areas, a mosque, and parking lots. While we are not able to verify the nature of the works, geolocating these videos allows us to infer the location of three construction sites, as well as their scale.

These construction sites are all located along the main road leading to the Qasioun mountaintop. The video below shows the extent to which these construction sites spread over this main road.

Map of Mount Qasioun. Red dots indicate geolocated videos showing evidence of construction work. The yellow line traces over the road, showing the extent to which construction works span over the length of the road leading to the mountaintop.

Due to lack of transparency around the development, we aren’t able to find specific plans for the buildings on site. Using the videos collected, we are able to 3D-model one of the buildings, often described in the videos as the site of a five-star hotel. This gives us insight into the scale and possible use of the building.

Video showing the 3D modelling of one of the buildings under construction. Using frames taken from one of the videos, a 3D model is assembled, showing the size and shape of the building.

Our findings indicate large areas of earthworks on the Qasioun mountaintop, as well as four main buildings under construction, including the one we modelled. While the nature of the works remains unknown, their footprint suggests the development of real estate at a bigger scale than the rehabilitation work announced by the Damascus Governorate in their June statement. Rather, the scale of earthworks and buildings seems to corroborate more closely with the investment opportunities for a ‘Qasioun Hill Hotel’ and a ‘Tourist City’ as presented during the July Syrian-Saudi Investment Forum.

Video showing the 3D modelling of another building under construction. The 3D model shows the scale and shape of the building.

Furthermore, there has been no public information regarding the companies contracted for the works, and no invitation was made for tenders. Our analysis found one company, Dama Ready-Mix and Building Materials, involved in the supplying of concrete. A subsidiary of Katerji Holding Group, Dama is headquartered in Marota City and heavily involved in its construction. While we are not able to verify financial links between construction on Qasioun and in Marota City, our analysis finds a direct material connection, as the concrete mixed and used in Marota City is the same one poured on the slopes of Mount Qasioun.

A geolocated video taken on one of the construction sites shows a concrete mixer truck bearing the logo of Dama Ready-Mix and Building Materials. This same logo is then shown on their headquarter building in Marota City.

Network of actors, linking Mount Qasioun, Dama Ready-Mix and Building Materials and Marota City

Regardless of the nature of the works being carried out, our analysis finds that these works, through their scale, their location atop those same sites that had been reappropriated by the Damascus public after the fall of Assad, and their material links to Marota City, validate the concerns of Damascus residents regarding the future accessibility of Mount Qasioun. Furthermore, a Syrian engineer has also raised concern about lack of proper geotechnical studies and analyses of the site, which heightens the risk of landslides or structural collapse, putting thousands of people living in informal housing on the lower slopes of the mountain at risk of future dispossession.²⁹

Reclaiming possession

As shown, the value the mountain holds differs according to perspective. Due to its unique view over Damascus, it is a place for military, real estate, and public interests, as well as home to the endangered iris. All assets can’t be reclaimed at the same time, and some suffer under the claiming of others. The construction project highlights how the mountain functions as a valuable asset within real estate development, where the views of the city is what gives the hotel an instant increase in value — oddly, the very same thing that gave the site value in military terms. With a site like Mount Qasioun, a decision must be made regarding which of the assets to draw benefit from — in times of transition, what developments should be prioritised? What should be (re)constructed? It seems that rather than realising the potential value the site could hold to the public in reconciling with the city post-war, it might be used to benefit a private few. 

The site of Mount Qasioun is inherently different from that of Marota City, but when put together, they highlight two dimensions of what it means to recover from dispossession. Marota City shows the impact and aftermath of dispossessed property. Mount Qasioun, on the other hand, shows how reclaiming possession cannot just be located in the private realm. It also exists within the public sphere, where it is important to create spaces for self-identifying and communal decision making, as well as reconfiguring the meaning attributed to public spaces and landmarks.

Recently, the notion of the right to the city has been argued as a lens through which the future reconstruction plans of Syria should be seen.²⁹ It is a ‘a demand for participatory, democratic control over urban life’ that ‘challenges dominant forms of top-down governance and market-led urbanism by asserting the agency of inhabitants in producing, inhabiting, and transforming the city.’ This aligns with our aim to show how the importance is not necessarily what is being built or what asset is put to use, but how the decision gets made in the first place. Who is in possession? Who gets to have a seat — at the table where decisions are made and on the slopes of the mountain, taking in the views?

1. The Syria Report, “Decree No. 66 of 2012 on the Establishment of Two Development Zones in Damascus,” July 18, 2022. ↩︎
2. Dr. Haid Haid, Reclaiming What Was Taken: The Struggle for HLP Rights in Post-Assad Syria, PAX September 8, 2025.  ↩︎
3. Nasser Rabbat and Deen Sharp, Reconstruction as Violence in Syria (AUC Press, 2025). ↩︎
4. Syria Indicator, “Marota City: A Multi-Billion Dollar Project Under Scrutiny”, May 16, 2024. ↩︎
5. The Syria Report, “Thirteen Years since Decree No. 66, Damascus Residents Still Feel the Ripple Effects”, September 30, 2025. ↩︎
6. Haid, “Reclaiming What Was Taken.” ↩︎
7. Jacques Derrida, Hospitality, Volume I (University of Chicago Press, 2023). ↩︎
8. Map of Damascus. ↩︎
9. Viory Video, “‘Place with Beautiful Memories’ – Syrians Return to Mount Qasioun After 14-Year Closure,” Viory Video, December 16, 2024. ↩︎
10. The Syrian Observer, “Mount Qasioun Renovation Sparks Controversy; Damascus Authorities Pledge Transparency,” June 19, 2025. ↩︎
11. “Mount Qasioun,” visitdamascussyria.com, accessed October 29, 2025. ↩︎
12. Ahmad Katlesh, “Public Space in Syria: Where Damascus Goes to Breathe,” Qantara.de, August 18, 2025. ↩︎
13. Ibid. ↩︎
14. France 24, “Elaborate Military Tunnel Complex Linked to Assad’s Palace,” January 4, 2025. ↩︎
15. Weizman, “Hollow Land.” ↩︎
16. Diana Darke, My House in Damascus: An Inside View of the Syrian Revolution (Haus Publishing, 2014), 113–14. ↩︎
17. Amr al-Faham, “Factors Driving the Destruction of Syria’s Natural Heritage,” Atlantic Council, January 19, 2016. ↩︎
18. “Iris Damascena,” IUCN Red List of Threatened Species, September 13, 2015. ↩︎
19. Presidency of the Syrian Arab Republic, Constitutional Declaration of the Syrian Arab Republic, March 13, 2025. Accessed 9 November, 2025.   ↩︎
20. Almodon, “المدن, “مشروع سياحي في جبل قاسيون… وتساؤلات عن الشفافية, June 18, 2025. ↩︎
21. Damascus Governorate, “بيان توضيحي صادر عن محافظة دمشق حول الأعمال الجارية في منطقة جبل قاسيون”, Facebook, June 19, 2025. ↩︎
22. The Syria Report, “Syria Plans to Build New Administrative City, Offers Investors Prime Real Estate Areas in Damascus”, July 29, 2025. ↩︎
23. Katlesh, “Public Space in Syria: Where Damascus Goes to Breathe.” ↩︎
24. Presidency of the Syrian Arab Republic, “Constitutional Declaration.” ↩︎
25. Moussa Al Omar via Facebook, June 17, 2025. ↩︎
26. The Syrian Observer, “Mount Qasioun Renovation Sparks Controversy; Damascus Authorities Pledge Transparency,” June 20, 2025. ↩︎
27. Damascus Governorate via Facebook, June 19, 2025. ↩︎
28. Syrian Investment Authority, “Qasioun Hill Hotel,”  Syrian Investment Authority, accessed October 29, 2025. ↩︎
29. The Syrian Observer, “Mount Qasioun Renovation.” ↩︎
30. The Syria Report, “Explained: Reclaiming the Right to the City and Housing Justice,” September 2, 2025. ↩︎