Nestled along the banks of the Orontes River, Hama is one of Syria’s oldest continuously inhabited cities. Its history stretches back millennia, with archaeological evidence suggesting settlements as early as the Neolithic period. Known in antiquity as Hamath, the city was a key player in the Bronze Age, mentioned in Egyptian and Assyrian records. The famous Noria waterwheels, some of which still function today, are a testament to Hama’s ancient engineering prowess, dating back to Byzantine and possibly even earlier times.
These massive wooden waterwheels, some reaching up to 20 meters in diameter, were designed to lift water from the Orontes into aqueducts for irrigation. For centuries, they have been the city’s defining feature, earning Hama the nickname "City of Norias." Despite wars, earthquakes, and modernization, many of these structures remain, creaking and groaning as they turn—a haunting reminder of a time when Hama was a thriving agricultural hub.
Under Ottoman rule, Hama became an administrative center, though it never rivaled Damascus or Aleppo in political influence. The Ottomans left their mark in the form of grand mosques and caravanserais, blending seamlessly with the city’s older architecture. However, the real test came during the French Mandate (1920–1946), when Hama became a focal point of resistance. Syrian nationalists, including figures from Hama, played crucial roles in the struggle for independence, setting the stage for the city’s later reputation as a hotbed of dissent.
No discussion of Hama’s modern history is complete without addressing the darkest chapter: the 1982 massacre. In response to an uprising by the Muslim Brotherhood, then-President Hafez al-Assad ordered a brutal crackdown. Estimates of the death toll range from 10,000 to 40,000, with large parts of the city reduced to rubble. The event was so devastating that it became a taboo subject in Syria for decades, a ghost that still lingers in the collective memory.
When the Arab Spring reached Syria in 2011, Hama was one of the first cities to join the protests. Its history of resistance made it a natural center for anti-government demonstrations. However, the regime’s response was swift and brutal. By mid-2011, security forces had stormed the city, leading to mass arrests and killings. Unlike Aleppo or Damascus, Hama never became a major battleground between rebels and regime forces, but it suffered immensely under siege tactics and economic collapse.
Today, Hama is a city struggling to recover. While it has avoided the total destruction seen in places like Raqqa or Idlib, years of conflict have left deep scars. Infrastructure is crumbling, unemployment is rampant, and the once-vibrant bazaars are shadows of their former selves. The international community’s focus on more active war zones has left Hama in a precarious state, with aid often failing to reach those who need it most.
Hama’s fate is inextricably linked to broader regional dynamics. Russia’s intervention in 2015 shifted the balance of power in favor of the Assad regime, but it also drew in other players like Iran and Turkey. The city’s strategic location—near key highways and water sources—makes it a prize for any power seeking influence in Syria. Meanwhile, the U.S. and EU have imposed sanctions that, while targeting the regime, often exacerbate the suffering of ordinary citizens.
One often-overlooked aspect of Hama’s significance is its access to the Orontes River. As climate change exacerbates water scarcity in the Middle East, control over this vital resource could become a flashpoint. Turkey’s upstream dams have already reduced water flow into Syria, adding another layer of tension to an already volatile region.
Despite everything, Hama’s cultural heritage endures. The Norias still turn, the old souks still whisper with the echoes of traders, and the people remain fiercely proud of their city. Efforts to restore damaged landmarks are slow but ongoing, often led by local initiatives rather than government programs.
Perhaps the most remarkable aspect of Hama’s story is its people. Generation after generation, they have weathered invasions, repression, and war, yet the city’s spirit persists. In the words of one local artisan: "We have seen empires rise and fall. This too shall pass."
As Syria’s war enters its second decade, Hama stands at a crossroads. Will it become another forgotten casualty of geopolitics, or can it reclaim its place as a cultural and economic hub? The answer depends not just on Syrians but on a world that has too often looked away.