A Christmas of hope and patience: Syrians mark the holiday amid strain and uncertainty

Christmas returns to Syria this year, carrying both fragile joy and lingering fear. The season feels markedly different, as Syrians search for moments of spiritual warmth in a country worn down by years of war and compounded crises.

Celebrations are quieter, and traditions have adapted, shaped by uncertainty and loss, yet core rituals endure — sustained by a shared longing for calm, dignity, and a more peaceful year ahead.

In Damascus, signs of the holiday appear in busy streets, scattered Santa Claus outfits, and families gathering for photos next to Christmas trees.

"Christmas this year carries a quieter, more reflective spirit," Father Yohanna Shehadeh, a priest at St Elias Church, tells The New Arab.

While public celebrations have diminished, churches continue to see strong turnout for Masses and prayers. For many, the focus is on seeking peace rather than celebration, as difficult living conditions and security fears have given the season a quieter, more spiritual character.

"Churches have tried to preserve essential Christmas traditions, from setting up trees to organising modest charity bazaars, not just for celebration, but to support families in need and reinforce solidarity," Father Yohanna adds. 

"Christmas this year carries a message of patience and hope, and we pray that future holidays will be safer and happier for all Syrians."

In Damascus' Al-Qasaa district, Alisar Awad, 40, describes how Christmas has become more subdued in recent years.

"It's now mainly a family occasion. We decorate a small corner of the house with an old artificial tree we've reused for four years. Buying new decorations isn't easy anymore, but we still go to church for Mass. The joy feels quieter, less lively, and security concerns are always there — especially with strict searches around churches and gathering places, which means people tend to head home quickly after prayers."

In Damascus, Salma Mardini, an elderly resident, reflects quietly on how Christmas has changed over the years.

"I used to look forward to December — baking cookies with my grandchildren and gathering the family around tables filled with festive dishes and drinks. Laughter and stories passed between generations, and joy filled the home before spilling into the streets and churches," she tells The New Arab.

"Today, things are different: prices are high, decorations are limited to a small corner, and not all of my grandchildren can be here. Still, we try to hold on to our traditions, to feel that the spirit of Christmas is still with us."

On the outskirts of Damascus, in the town of Saydnaya, teacher George Moussa describes a quieter but resilient Christmas atmosphere.

"We still hold on to the basic rituals," he says. "Residents came together to decorate the church courtyard, a medium-sized Christmas tree was erected, and a small bazaar sold homemade food and handicrafts to support families in need. There is a general sense of anxiety — many Christian families have already emigrated or are planning to leave — but we try not to let fear extinguish the spirit of the occasion. This Christmas may be less flashy, but it has brought people closer together."

In Maaloula, where Aramaic is spoken alongside Christmas prayers, the holiday carries a deeply spiritual tone.

A young resident, Nadine Al-Issa, describes a celebration rooted more in faith than display. "Here, Christmas is still closely tied to the church and its hymns," she says.

"Street decorations are minimal, but people make sure to attend communal prayers and exchange greetings. Rising prices have changed many rituals — tables are no longer lavish — so people compensate by gathering and praying together. Fear is still present, but it is less intense than in previous years," Nadine tells The New Arab. 

In Homs, a city marked by widespread destruction and years of displacement, Christmas is less about spectacle and more about persistence.

Ibrahim Al-Hourani, a 50-year-old merchant from the Al-Hamidiya district, reflects on a holiday shaped by caution and endurance. "The celebration has returned timidly, but it has returned," he says.

"Churches organised small bazaars, and families took part despite their limited means. A Christmas tree was set up in a square near the church, but celebrations lasted only a few hours. People are more cautious now — not only because of security concerns but also because of harsh living conditions. We rejoice as much as we can, and sometimes just hearing the hymns is enough to feel that it is Christmas."

In Latakia, Christmas unfolded with restraint, shaped by a preference for religious observance over public spectacle. The lighting of a tree outside the Greek Orthodox Church of Saints Michael and Gabriel in the American District drew residents, clergy and officials, offering a moment of cautious joy and symbolic coexistence.

Inside churches, communal prayers and Masses formed the heart of celebrations, while decorations were limited to homes and streets near churches, with neighbours exchanging greetings.

Governor Mohammad Othman said lighting the tree symbolises peace and solidarity among Syrians.

From the Martqla district, Ayman Skaff described a quieter Christmas this year due to rising costs. "My family decorated our home with a small tree and lit candles," he shares with The New Arab.

"The atmosphere around churches is lovely, especially during the tree lighting, with families taking photos with their children. The holiday has become more about spirituality and prayer than public display, given the economic challenges affecting every aspect of celebration."

In northeastern Syria, where identities and rituals intersect, Bati from Qamishli reflected on how Christmas celebrations have changed.

"We used to celebrate Christmas and New Year, decorating streets, shops, and homes a month or more in advance, with festivities lasting into the new year," Bati explains.

"Now the celebrations have changed drastically due to circumstances. Prices for holiday supplies have risen; many cannot afford them, and fear looms amid an uncertain future. We hope to overcome all this and that the coming year brings goodness, happiness, and widespread well-being."

This is an edited translation from our Arabic edition. To read the original, click here

Article translated by Afrah Almatwari