On December 18, 2025, the United States Congress made headlines by voting to permanently repeal the sweeping sanctions it had imposed on Syria under former leader Bashar al Assad, a move that was immediately hailed as a turning point by both American lawmakers and Syrian officials. The bill, which garnered robust bipartisan support, is now poised for President Donald Trump's signature, signaling a remarkable shift in US policy toward Syria and potentially opening the door to renewed diplomatic and economic engagement.
Senator Jeanne Shaheen, the Ranking Member of the Senate Foreign Relations Committee, described the repeal as “a decisive step toward giving the Syrian people a real chance to rebuild.” According to VOVWORLD, this sentiment was echoed by Syria’s Minister of Foreign Affairs and Expatriates, Asaad Hassan al-Shaibani, who thanked the US for supporting the Syrian people. Al-Shaibani called the repeal “a positive development that opens new horizons for cooperation and partnership between our country and the world.” Such optimism, however, sits in stark contrast with other policy moves unfolding in Washington.
Just a day earlier, on December 17, the White House announced a dramatic expansion of US travel restrictions, adding 20 countries to existing bans and imposing new limitations affecting more than 35 nations worldwide. According to reporting from Marrakech, President Trump’s administration declared that, starting January 1, 2026, Syria—along with South Sudan, Niger, Mali, and Burkina Faso—would face a complete travel ban, even as Syrian officials celebrated the end of US sanctions. The new bans also target individuals traveling on Palestinian Authority-issued documents, though the administration notably avoided recognizing Palestine by name.
This expansion doubles the number of affected nations from the original 12 countries banned in June 2017, now reaching across Africa, the Middle East, and beyond. Fifteen additional countries, including Angola, Nigeria, and Zimbabwe, face punitive partial restrictions, while Laos and Sierra Leone have been upgraded from partial to full restrictions. The policy, which the White House justifies on grounds of "widespread corruption, fraudulent or unreliable civil documents and criminal records" in the affected countries, also cites high visa overstay rates, lack of cooperation in accepting deported nationals, and what officials describe as inadequate vetting systems.
Notably, the Syrian travel ban comes despite recent diplomatic engagement between the US and Syria, including a visit by Syrian President Ahmed al-Sharaa to the White House in November. The Trump administration, however, maintains that Syria “still lacks an adequate central authority for issuing passports or civil documents,” justifying the continued exclusion of Syrian nationals from entry to the US.
For many, the timing and nature of these policy changes are striking. On one hand, the repeal of sanctions is being celebrated as a gesture of goodwill and a step toward rebuilding war-torn Syria. On the other, the imposition of a total travel ban underscores an enduring skepticism—if not outright hostility—toward the same country’s citizens. This dichotomy has not gone unnoticed by critics and supporters alike.
Democratic Congresswoman Rashida Tlaib, herself of Palestinian descent, was blunt in her condemnation. “This administration’s racist cruelty knows no limits, expanding their travel ban to include even more African and Muslim-majority countries, even Palestinians fleeing a genocide,” she said, as reported by Marrakech. Laurie Ball Cooper of the International Refugee Assistance Project added, “This expanded ban is not about national security but instead is another shameful attempt to demonize people simply for where they are from.”
The policy’s reach is broad, affecting nearly one-fifth of the world’s countries. It restricts not only tourists and business travelers but also legal immigration, impacting spouses, children, and parents of US citizens from the listed countries. Exceptions exist for lawful permanent residents, existing visa holders, diplomats, and athletes traveling for major sporting events. There are also case-by-case waivers for travel deemed to serve US national interests. However, the expansion eliminates exceptions for Afghan Special Immigrant visas, which previously allowed those who assisted US military operations to seek refuge in the US.
The administration’s security narrative has been a driving force behind these developments. The announcement followed the arrest of an Afghan national suspected of shooting two National Guard troops over Thanksgiving weekend—an incident the White House quickly cited as justification for the new restrictions. President Trump declared he would “permanently pause migration from all Third World countries,” while Homeland Security Secretary Kristi Noem recommended “a full travel ban on every damn country that’s been flooding our nation with killers, leeches, and entitlement junkies.”
Beyond the political rhetoric, the policy has real and immediate consequences. For nationals from the restricted countries already living in the US, the ban could affect immigration applications and even citizenship ceremonies. The administration has also paused asylum decisions and initiated reviews of green card holders from affected regions. The new restrictions will remain in place until the listed countries demonstrate “credible improvements” in identity management and cooperation with US immigration authorities.
Reactions from the international community have been swift and serious. Countries affected by the new restrictions announced they were evaluating the policy with “utmost seriousness and urgency.” The ban also comes at a time when the US faces criticism for what many see as a retreat from its founding principles as a nation of immigrants. According to former Biden administration official Doug Rand, the policy “really slams the door on nearly all noncitizens from the listed countries.”
The rhetoric surrounding the travel ban has grown increasingly heated. In a recent speech in Pennsylvania, President Trump disparaged immigrants from Somalia, calling their country “filthy, dirty, disgusting, ridden with crime” and suggesting the US should instead welcome people from Denmark. Such remarks have fueled accusations that the policy is rooted in xenophobia and white supremacist ideologies, constructing hierarchies of desirability based on geography and culture. Director of National Intelligence Tulsi Gabbard labeled “Islamists and Islamism” as the greatest threat to US freedom and security, while Senator Tommy Tuberville went so far as to call Islam a “cult” and warn of a “United Caliphate of America” if current immigration trends continue.
For Syrians, the juxtaposition of sanctions relief with a sweeping travel ban is both confusing and emblematic of the broader contradictions in US foreign and domestic policy. While the repeal of sanctions may indeed open new economic opportunities and avenues for cooperation, the travel ban sends a starkly different message to ordinary Syrians seeking to visit, study, or reunite with family in the United States.
As the US prepares to implement these changes on January 1, 2026, the world will be watching to see whether the promise of renewed engagement with Syria can coexist with the reality of ever-tightening borders. For many, the answer will shape not only US-Syrian relations but also the broader debate over America’s identity as a nation of immigrants—or a fortress against them.
