According to security sources who spoke to The Levant Files and were later confirmed by Syrian defence officials, instructors from the Turkish Armed Forces (TSK) began arriving in the capital in the last months. They now offer crash courses at several former regime bases on the outskirts of the Syrian cities such as Damascus, Homs, and Latakia, teaching everything from basic infantry tactics to NATO-style staff procedures. A parallel program for pilot cadets is already underway in Turkey, where dozens of Syrians, fresh from the rebel frontlines, have begun elementary flight training on Turkish trainer aircraft.
"Every classroom now has Turkish-style discipline and procedures," one source told this site by phone from a converted lecture hall close to a Syrian military base. "They keep reminding us that we are partners, but also that discipline will be according to Turkish standards."
A Broader Security Make-Over
Military instruction is only part of Ankara's portfolio. Teams of Turkish interior ministry and security apparatus specialists have fanned out to several "liberated" cities to resuscitate bomb-cratered infrastructure and to rewire a hollowed-out state. In Aleppo, for example, engineers are relaying cables and rebuilding the municipal communication network; in other places, Turkish personnel are tutoring local police recruits on crowd control and digital forensics.
Syrian officials insist the partnership is temporary. "We asked for help because we need functioning institutions yesterday," asserted sources close to the new, interim regime of Syria. "But the command will remain 100 percent Syrian."
Who Is Joining?
Recruitment brochures plastered on public places such as mosque walls call for "Sons and Daughters of the Revolution aged 18-35," yet the early cohorts are overwhelmingly Sunni Arab men—many with previous experience in Hayat Tahrir al-Sham, the National Liberation Front, or the Turkish-backed Syrian National Army. Former Islamist fighters who toppled the Ba'ath regime see the new uniform as a ticket to legitimacy and a steady salary. Smaller intakes of Druze from Suwayda, Turkmen from the north, and a handful of Alawite conscripts provide a veneer of pluralism. Still, Kurdish participation remains negligible pending talks with the Syrian Democratic Forces (SDF).
That demographic skew worries Western diplomats monitoring the process. " If you build a military that looks 80 percent Sunni Arab, 10 percent everyone else, you risk baking sectarian tensions into the chain of command," said one European source in Beirut.
Eyes of the World
Washington, London, Paris, and Tel Aviv are following Turkey's experiment with cautious interest; Israel is watching with barely concealed alarm. Jerusalem fears that Turkish-operated airbases at Palmyra and the T4 complex—both slated for refurbishment and possible deployment of HISAR or even Russian-made S-400 batteries—could curtail Israel's long-established freedom of action over Syrian skies. Israeli analysts also stress the importance of "Druze and Kurdish self-deterrence" inside any future Syrian security architecture, a euphemism for preventing a Sunni-dominated army from threatening minority enclaves on Israel's northern flank.
A Herculean Task
The project's scale is unprecedented. A recent analysis by Syrian researcher Mohammed Hassan lists more than 60 militant factions, 50,000 SDF fighters, and thousands of disgruntled Alawite officers sheltering in the coastal mountains—all of whom must be coaxed, coerced, or bought into a unified command. The transitional government's three-phase plan initially calls for merging existing formations under the Ministry of Defence umbrella, followed by the creation of specialized units, and finally negotiating a comprehensive agreement with the SDF that would facilitate the full integration of Turkish-sponsored Syrian National Army brigades.
Progress is tangible: on 17 May, Maj. Gen. Abu Qasra declared that "all military units in the country have been merged" and issued a Code of Military Conduct forbidding sectarian slogans and the abuse of civilians. Yet challenges abound.
1. Internal unity of Hay'at Tahrir al-Sham (HTS): Interim President Ahmed al-Sharaa's power base bristles at concessions to Washington and Ankara, particularly the decision to corral foreign jihadis into a new 84th Division rather than expel them. U.S. officials privately warn that Sharaa "could face assassination" by hardliners.
2. Divergent threat perceptions: For many rebels, the enemy remains Assad loyalists and the SDF; for Israel, it is Iranian militias; for Turkey, it is Kurdish autonomy. No consensus means no coherent doctrine.
3. Resource vacuum: After years of Israeli airstrikes and economic freefall, Damascus has little heavy equipment left. Qatar may foot part of the bill, Jordan has offered training grounds, and Russia dangles alternative arms if the West balks—but none of that money has arrived.
4. Time and professionalism: Welding guerrilla bands into a disciplined, multi-branch force will take years, not months. Most field commanders know how to storm a checkpoint, not how to plan a corps-level operation.
Turkey's Calculus
Why is Ankara investing treasure and political capital in Syria's army? Turkish officials frame it as self-protection: a stable, friendly Syria limits Kurdish militancy on Turkey's southern border and offers lucrative reconstruction contracts. By training pilots, Turkey also gains a regional ally dependent on its airpower, cementing Ankara's status as the pre-eminent Sunni actor in the eastern Mediterranean.
For now, the barracks outside Damascus echo with shouted Turkish commands and the clatter of newly issued rifles. Young recruits queue at mobile biometric stations, thumbprints scanned into a national database that did not exist six months ago. The feeling among them is a blend of relief and uncertainty.
Whether Turkey's ambitious experiment produces a cohesive national military or merely rearranges Syria's mosaic of armed groups remains to be seen. What is clear is that the battle for post-war Syria is no longer fought on ruined city streets but in classrooms, drill squares, and negotiation rooms where Ankara's voice is loudest—and where the future of the Levant's most shattered state is being rewritten, one recruit at a time.
Photo: Wikimedia Commons