No one wants to go near the question of how many potential lone gunmen are embedded in the Syrian army.
Two American soldiers and a civilian interpreter lost their lives in Syria last weekend, caught in the crossfire between official narratives and uncomfortable truths. While Washington swiftly attributed the attack to ISIS, investigators found threads leading back to Syria's own security forces — a revelation that neither government has been willing to follow in public. The incident illuminates the ancient tension between strategic necessity and moral clarity, as the United States deepens its partnership with a government whose army carries within it the very extremism it was formed to oppose.
- Sergeants Edgar Brian Torres Tovar and William Nathaniel Howard, both Iowa National Guard soldiers in their twenties, were killed alongside a civilian interpreter in what officials immediately called an ISIS attack — but the investigation quietly pointed elsewhere.
- The shooter's connections to Syria's own security apparatus surfaced within days, threatening to unravel a carefully constructed diplomatic narrative built around the US-backed government of Ahmed al-Sharaa.
- Syrian officials had reportedly warned the US-led coalition of a potential security breach beforehand, warnings that went unheeded — raising the specter of institutional failure layered beneath the tactical one.
- The attack draws haunting parallels to Afghanistan's green-on-blue crisis, where coalition forces were killed by the very partners they were training, a pattern no one in Damascus or Washington appears willing to name aloud.
- With 2,000 to 3,000 foreign fighters integrated into Syrian defense units and hundreds of US troops still on the ground, the conditions for further insider threats remain intact while policy review stays firmly off the table.
Two American soldiers — Sergeant Edgar Brian Torres Tovar, 25, of Des Moines, and Sergeant William Nathaniel Howard, 29, of Marshalltown — along with a civilian interpreter, were killed in Syria last weekend when a gunman opened fire on their position. President Trump promised retaliation and officials named ISIS as the culprit. Within days, however, investigators found that the attacker had connections to Syria's own security forces, a finding that both Washington and Damascus moved quickly to suppress.
The killings arrived at a delicate moment in US-Syria relations. The Trump administration has staked considerable political capital on Ahmed al-Sharaa, Syria's new president, who came to power after Assad's fall and whose own extremist past — including a former US terrorist designation and a $10 million bounty — has been officially set aside in the name of partnership. Al-Sharaa visited the White House in November, sanctions were partially lifted, and the alliance was presented as a new chapter. Acknowledging that his security forces may harbor the very threat the partnership is meant to neutralize would be, as one source put it, devastating to the US position.
The deeper problem is structural. Syria's new army is assembled from a mosaic of former resistance fighters, many carrying extremist affiliations into their ranks. Former officials and analysts describe a force in which extremist tendencies are not aberrations but are woven throughout the institution itself. Syrian officials had reportedly flagged a potential security breach to the coalition before the attack; those warnings were not acted upon.
The echo of Afghanistan is difficult to ignore. Green-on-blue attacks — in which Afghan security forces turned on their NATO partners — became one of the defining tragedies of that war's final years, accelerating as recruitment outpaced vetting. No one in a position of authority appears willing to draw that parallel openly. Syria arrested five suspects and reaffirmed its partnership with the US; Washington held to the ISIS narrative. Hundreds of American troops remain in Syria, operating alongside forces whose loyalties cannot be fully known. The attack last weekend was the deadliest for US personnel in Syria since 2019, and the conditions that produced it have not changed.
Two American soldiers and a civilian interpreter died in Syria last weekend when a gunman opened fire on their position. The immediate official response was swift and unified: President Trump promised severe consequences, and administration officials quickly identified the shooter as a lone ISIS operative. But within days, a more complicated picture began to emerge from investigators and officials familiar with the case. The attacker, it turned out, had connections to Syria's own security apparatus—a detail that both Washington and Damascus moved quickly to downplay.
Sergeant Edgar Brian Torres Tovar, 25, from Des Moines, Iowa, and Sergeant William Nathaniel Howard, 29, from Marshalltown, Iowa, were part of a rotating deployment from the Iowa National Guard. They were among hundreds of American troops stationed across Syria as part of the ongoing campaign against ISIS. The third victim was a civilian interpreter working alongside them. Trump said he would meet with the families of the two soldiers at Dover Air Force Base on Wednesday as the remains were returned.
The timing of the attack exposed a tension at the heart of current US policy in Syria. The Trump administration has invested heavily in backing Ahmed al-Sharaa, the new Syrian president who took power after the fall of Bashar al-Assad's government last year. Al-Sharaa himself has a complicated past—he previously led a group designated as terrorist by the US and had a $10 million bounty on his head until recently. But the administration has chosen to treat his extremist history as behind him, emphasizing instead his willingness to partner with American forces against ISIS. In November, al-Sharaa became the first Syrian head of state to visit the White House in decades. Trump called him a strong leader and a tough guy from a tough place. The US had also partially lifted sanctions on Syria, signaling a major shift in relations.
Yet the shooting raised questions that officials seemed reluctant to answer directly. Multiple sources familiar with the investigation, including both US and Syrian officials, told reporters that the shooter's actual ties to ISIS were far murkier than the public narrative suggested. Initial indications pointed instead toward some form of connection to Syrian security forces, though whether that connection was current or historical remained unclear. Syria's Interior Ministry spokesman acknowledged that the attacker had been flagged for a security review and that Syrian officials had warned the US-led coalition about preliminary information suggesting a possible breach or expected ISIS attacks. The coalition, he said, had not taken those warnings seriously enough.
The problem runs deeper than any single incident. Syria's new army is a patchwork of fighters drawn from various resistance groups, many of whom bring extremist affiliations into their ranks. One former US official who recently visited Damascus and met with senior Syrian leadership described the situation plainly: the armed forces include people from all backgrounds, some with clear ties to extremist movements. They are attempting to transition into a functioning military, but extremist elements remain embedded throughout. Another source with direct knowledge of Syria's security challenges put it more bluntly: the new government likely has limited insight into the extremist tendencies of its own forces because those tendencies are widespread among the security apparatus itself.
This echoes a painful chapter from the war in Afghanistan. In the final years of that conflict, NATO and US forces suffered repeated casualties from so-called green-on-blue attacks—incidents in which Afghan security forces turned their weapons on their coalition partners. Those attacks increased significantly as Afghanistan desperately tried to recruit and train a growing military force. The parallel is uncomfortable, and neither Syrian nor American officials appear willing to engage with it directly. One source told reporters that no one wants to address the question of how many potential lone gunmen might be embedded within the hodgepodge of jihadists that comprise the Syrian army.
The Syrian government moved to contain the political damage by arresting five suspects in connection with the attack and reaffirming its partnership with the US. The Trump administration doubled down on the ISIS narrative, treating the incident as an isolated act by a terror group rather than evidence of a systemic vulnerability in the forces the US is backing. Acknowledging the broader threat would require a policy review that neither side appears inclined to undertake. As one source with knowledge of the security situation explained, admitting that someone within al-Sharaa's forces carried out the attack would be devastating to the US position. Instead, officials are maintaining the line that this was an ISIS operation, even as the investigation suggests otherwise.
The challenge facing both governments is real and ongoing. Between 2,000 and 3,000 foreign fighters have been integrated into a dedicated Syrian defense unit called the 84th Division, with tacit American approval. The new Syrian government is taking considerable risk in partnering with US and coalition forces, according to analysts at the Middle East Institute, but it appears committed to prioritizing ties with Western institutions. For now, hundreds of American troops remain in Syria, operating alongside forces whose loyalty and ideology cannot be fully vetted. The attack last weekend was the deadliest incident involving US personnel in Syria since 2019, when a blast killed two soldiers and two civilians. It may not be the last.
Citas Notables
The Syrian army is comprised of fighters from the Revolution and includes folks of all background, some with extremist ties. They are trying to transition but as the attack highlighted there are still extremist elements within the country.— Former US official who recently traveled to Damascus
How could they know when those tendencies are mainstream among the security forces called the Syrian army?— Source with knowledge of US-Syrian cooperation efforts
La Conversación del Hearth Otra perspectiva de la historia
Why did officials rush to blame ISIS when the investigation suggested something different?
Because the alternative is politically untenable. If you admit that someone within the Syrian army—within the force you're backing—killed American soldiers, you have to reckon with whether your entire Syria strategy is sound. It's easier to call it a lone ISIS operative.
But people investigating the case knew that wasn't true?
Yes. Multiple US and Syrian officials told reporters the shooter's ISIS ties were unclear. Syrian officials even warned the coalition about him beforehand. But that warning itself is awkward—it suggests the new government can't control its own forces.
Is this like Afghanistan?
Very much. In Afghanistan, the same thing happened repeatedly. Local forces you're training and fighting alongside turn on you. It's called a green-on-blue attack. The difference is that in Afghanistan, people eventually had to acknowledge the problem. Here, both governments seem determined not to.
What's the actual threat to American troops right now?
Unknown, and that's the point. The Syrian army is made up of fighters from different groups with varying extremist views. Some have foreign backgrounds. The new government is still consolidating control. How many of those fighters might pose a threat? No one's willing to say.
So the US is just accepting the risk?
Not accepting it—ignoring it. Or at least, not acknowledging it publicly. The partnership with al-Sharaa is too important strategically. Admitting the vulnerability would force a conversation about whether the policy itself is sound.
What happens next?
Hundreds of American troops stay in Syria. The investigation continues quietly. And both governments maintain the official story that this was an ISIS attack, even as they privately understand it was more complicated than that.