Ein Ziwan, Golan Heights: A dry mountain wind fluttered a bunch of Israeli flags at the entrance to a kibbutz in the Israeli-occupied Golan Heights, where peace belies the tumultuous events nearby.
Earlier this month, Syrian President Bashar al-Assad was ousted after nearly 25 years in power. Within hours, Israeli tanks crossed the razor wire-reinforced fence in Syria’s Golan demilitarized buffer zone, which was created as part of a 1974 ceasefire between the countries. Israel said it was a temporary measure to secure its border.
Days later, the Israeli government approved Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu’s US$11 million economic stimulus plan to double the population of Israeli settlers in the Golan Heights, which Israel captured from Syria in the 1967 Middle East War.
Israel will “continue to hold it, flourish it and manage it,” Netanyahu said.
The international community, with one exception, considers the Golan to be Syrian-occupied territory, while the United Nations lists Israeli settlements there as illegal. In 2019, the United States became the only country to recognize Israel’s 1981 annexation.
About 50,000 people currently live there, about half of them Israeli settlers and the other half Arab Druze, a religious minority spread between Syria, Lebanon, Israel, and the Golan Heights.
In the cities and kibbutzim of the Golan, news of plans to increase the number of settlers was met with a mixture of skepticism, excitement and shock.
Too much growth, too fast?
Paul Hecht, who has lived in the Golan for almost 42 years, welcomed the news with “mixed emotions, to be honest, because I like the Golan Heights the way it is. I’m afraid that this place will be overpopulated but at the same time, of course, I want the place to move forward.” .β
He said that rural lifestyle, open space and mountains are attractive. Doubling the population “seems a little extreme,” especially if attempted in a short time frame, he said, adding that the region needs infrastructure improvements — especially roads — before bringing in more people for its existing population.
The Golan’s economy is heavily dependent on agriculture and the hospitality industry. The previous government had little success in trying to attract more settlers — in large part due to a lack of job opportunities and long distances from major cities.
A well-publicized move in 2019 to rename the Golan settlement after then-US President Donald Trump failed to attract residents there.
But Hecht believes more Israelis could be tempted by life in the Golan after Assad’s fall.
“I think it will bring more people who want to come and live in the Golan Heights because of the sense of security that people get here,” he said. “And obviously the best view and the best nature in Israel.”
Dream of a rural lifestyle
One such new settler could be 60-year-old Shlomo Benhaim, who has been thinking of moving to the Golan for years.
“This is my dream. If I make it, who knows,” he said on a day trip with his wife to Kibbutz Ein Zivan, about two kilometers from the Syrian buffer zone. One of the oldest kibbutzim dating from the late 1960s, In Ziwan today has only 500 residents.
“I love the Golan. It is a unique area of ββIsrael, very unique, with a lot of history, archeology, modern history, with a lot of memories,” he said.
But the transition won’t be easy. The area is mainly popular with Israeli tourists who come for the mountains and outdoor activities, but it’s about a three-hour drive from well-to-do urban centers like Tel Aviv.
On the other hand, there is also a good education system and no traffic jams.
“(Life) in the Golan has many advantages, and many negative things,” he said.
At nearby Kibbutz Merom Golan, hotel manager Shefi Mode said with tax breaks and cheap land, “I think the government’s support can help people come here and stay.”
Mode first came to the area decades ago as a soldier and liked it so much that he moved here. But it is not yet clear whether others will be tempted to follow suit.
Anxiety among the Druze
Many Golan Heights Druze consider themselves under Syrian occupation. While Israeli citizenship is open to them, many have not taken it and instead have Israeli residence permits. They have a complicated relationship with Israel.
“Whatever this government wants to do, it won’t get permission from us,” said Khaled Elsher, a restaurant owner in the Druze village of Masada.
The plan to double the number of settlers left him “shocked and appalled,” he said.
He considers the Golan to be Syrian. But if he wants it to be part of Syria, he said, no.
“I feel Golani. Neither Israeli nor Syrian,” he said. “We are connected to the land, no one will be president of it.”
Ali Abu Awad, a local surgeon, stressed that the Golan Heights were “an essential part of Syria” and noted that most of the local population with university degrees, including himself, had studied there.
He accused the Israeli government of apartheid-like discrimination against religious minorities, including his own, and said Israel’s Jewish citizens were treated with blatant discrimination in access to and preference for higher education.
Despite official guarantees of equal civil rights, the country’s Arab citizens often suffer discrimination.
Abu Awad dismissed the government’s plan to double the number of settlers.
“They can say whatever they want,” he said. “But so far, they’ve said it before and they’ve failed.”