Why Israel is bombing Damascus troops to 'protect' the Druze

Al-Sharaa, who has sought to reassure the Druze community, spent years fighting Islamic State, yet Syrian Druze remain worried that they may be marginalised or attacked despite pledges by Damascus to protect minorities. For a wary Druze  community, the hundreds of deaths in Alawite-majority coastal regions in March (prompted by pro-Assad cells attacking government forces) will have done little to reassure them of the government's good intentions.

Friends in need?

At face value, Israel's claim to be a Druze protector could be seen positively, yet the Druze know that it also carries significant risks. Being 'protected' by Israel in Syria today is akin to putting a target on one's back, analysts suggest. More generally, it is far from clear that Syria's Druze feel the need for protection—after years of persecution, they have learnt how to fend for themselves, creating the de facto basis for an autonomous region.

This autonomy fuels suspicion that the Druze are angling to build their own state, but Druze elders have all pushed back against the idea, expressing their rejection of efforts to divide Syria and highlighting that Druze communities across the region are traditionally loyal citizens of their home countries, be it Israel, Lebanon, or Syria. Even Sheikh Tarif—the spiritual leader of the Israeli Druze, who met Syrian Druze visiting Israel—made sure to highlight his support for Syrian unity.

In the southern Syrian provinces of Daraa and Quneitra, anger is brewing at Israel's continued presence in villages near the border and its military intervention in the country. Demonstrations have broken out and Israel has lost some of the goodwill it built during Syria's civil war when it treated wounded Syrians near the border. By claiming to protect the Druze community, Israel has associated the Druze with what many Syrians see as Israel's plan effort to annex new parts of the country.

Settling in

In the days and weeks following Assad's fall, Israel pushed into southern Syria, taking over most of the 'buffer-zone' between the two countries and even beyond, building new lines of defence that look anything but temporary. Ever since, Israeli officials have said they plan to stay indefinitely. The military logic is to pre-empt any threats, with Hezbollah having built a network of cells dubbed the 'Golan File'.

Al-Sharaa's own troops, with their Islamist links and jihadi heritage, are also seen as a threat by Tel Aviv, which has refused to build ties (even discreet ones). Earlier this week, Israeli minister Amichai Chikli even called for al-Sharaa to be "eliminated without delay," calling him "a terrorist and barbaric murderer".

Together with its overtures towards Syrian minorities, Israel's actions and rhetoric suggests a deeper concern. Analysts think this might be Türkiye, whose military and intelligence agencies are understood to have supported and trained al-Sharaa's troops in the run-up to their successful campaign to oust Assad late last year.

In Israel, commentators suggest that Syria will go from being an Iranian 'vassal' to one doing Ankara's bidding, which is a worry for Tel Aviv, because Turkish President Recep Tayyip Erdogan has accused Israel of war crimes in Gaza. Two of the most dominant regional military powers, Israel and Türkiye at times appear to be gearing up for a showdown in Syria, where an Israeli airstrike earlier this year against an airbase in the Homs countryside followed claims that Turkish forces would deploy air defences there. The strike was seen as a 'message'.  

It may backfire. By aggressively targeting the new Syrian government and embracing Syria's armed militias, some think Israel risks convincing al-Sharaa that he needs Turkish military support, increasing reliance on Ankara. Another idea is that Israel's posturing and show of military prowess over Syria may be designed to push Damascus towards a normalisation deal with Tel Aviv.

Proxy battleground

Israel's main concern about Syria in recent years has been its use as strategic land corridor and weapons smuggling route between Iran and Hezbollah in Lebanon. While Assad kept the Syrian-Israel border quiet, he is believed to have turned a blind eye to the convoys of weapons that Israeli aircraft routinely targeted in what grew to resemble a game of whack-a-mole.

From Syria's civil war, Israel may have drawn the lesson that it cannot remain on the sidelines when it comes to its neighbour. By defending Syrian minorities, including its Kurds, Israel may hope to weaken Damascus's central authority and neutralise the new Syria as a future threat.

Indeed, the Kurdish-led Syrian Democratic Forces (SDF) is well armed, battle hardened (having fought Islamic State), and negotiating with Damascus for its own autonomous region in north-eastern Syria. Türkiye sees the armed Kurdish groups as a national security threat, but for ten years the Americans have partnered with the Kurds to neutralise IS. Israeli support could simply replace US investment.

To some, Israel is demonstrating a lack of understanding about its neighbour, drawing the wrong lessons from Syria's recent upheaval. Far from being a threat, the new regime has neither the appetite nor the ability to fight after a 13-year period of civil war and devastation, and although they have concerns, most Syrian minorities have no intention of forming their own statelets, knowing that a genuine push for independence would only trigger more violence, not least from Türkiye.

By positioning itself as an actor intent on dividing Syria, Israel may be undermining its own outreach efforts to Syrian minorities, who—despite their concerns—do still feel Syrian, and are tired of divisions. A more holistic and diplomacy-led approach may end in disappointment, but Israel's current security-focused approach makes those disappointments more of a certainty.