Opposition military commanders vow to block any attempt to create an Alawite state.

“We want to prevent the regime from leaving Damascus at all, to ensure that when Damascus falls, the regime falls, too,” said a senior rebel military commander from Homs, who asked not to be named for security reasons. At a recent meeting of opposition military commanders in southern Turkey, none showed up from the meager forces around Tartus.

The war has only augmented the reputation of people from Tartus for living the indolent life of a relaxed resort. Unlike much of Syria, the town still has bread, diesel fuel and electricity, with minimal power cuts. The local cinema club maintains a robust schedule and recently screened both “Finding Nemo” and “Cinema Paradiso.”

The city experienced a few small antigovernment demonstrations after the revolution first started in March 2011, but none since.

Abu Mohamed, 35, a real estate agent here, has tracked the fighting elsewhere in Syria by the license plates showing up outside his office. First they were from Homs, then Deir al-Zour, then Aleppo and now Damascus.

He gets 20 to 30 calls a day, he said, from people looking for houses to buy or rent.

“Most of them have never been here before, but they seem to be rich or at least middle class because they have nice cars,” he said. Recently, he said, more black government limousines have appeared, and middlemen have materialized, telling him that they are looking for big houses for some unidentified “important and influential figure who wants it for his family.”

Ahmed Jibril, a Palestinian commander still loyal to Mr. Assad, fled with his son to Tartus from Damascus after rebels there gained the upper hand in the Palestinian neighborhood of Yarmouk, activists said.

“Usually at this time of year, the city is empty,” said Abu Mohammed, using a nickname to avoid alienating any clients. “But now it is the opposite. All the hotels, motels, small sea cottages, anything furnished is full.”

Precise numbers are difficult to gauge. Azzam Dayoub, the head of the political office for the underground revolutionary council of Tartus, said there were at least 230,000 war refugees in the city. Others said the population of the entire province, once around 1.2 million, was now closer to two million. Most are Alawites, including countless government employees who have returned to their home province. But many are Sunnis, Christians or others close to the government who no longer felt safe elsewhere.

Mr. Dayoub said Alawites in the town barred other minorities and members of Syria’s Sunni majority from entering their neighborhoods, and the two sides no longer frequent each other’s stores. The Sunni population has been collecting weapons to fight any future attempt to drive them out, he said.

The large presence of non-Alawites along the coast prompted many residents to suggest that building an Alawite state would be impossible. Latakia, for example, a larger coastal city to the north with an international airport, would seem a more natural choice for a capital, but it is considered less safe for its large Alawite population because of repeated clashes there.

There are few public conversations in Tartus about the crisis enveloping Syria, several residents said. “No one on either side discusses their feelings openly,” said a 29-year-old woman who spoke on condition of anonymity because of the tensions there. “They want to keep things calm because both sides are scared.”

Privately, some Alawites dismiss the chances of having their own state. Abu Haidar, 55, the owner of a small import and export business in Tartus, said dreams were one thing, but reality was something else. “What do we have in Tartus Province that would aid us to stand alone as a state?” he asked. “We have neither the infrastructure, nor the resources. It is basically lemon and olive orchards along with a small city with simple services.”

But until the day of reckoning arrives, Tartus seems bent on blocking out the war raging over the horizon.

“The people who came to Tartus are looking to live their lives, not to sit and remember what happened to their brothers and other relatives in their hometowns,” Abu Mohamed said. Given the lavish wedding parties here, the mobbed restaurants and the buzz of daily activity, he said, “Sometimes, when I drive around the streets and squares of Tartus, I forget what is happening in Syria.”