FreedomWritersCA Guest post: Israel, Syria, and Lebanon: On the Precipice of War

While on a research trip to Tel Aviv University’s Moshe Dayan Centre, I made my way onto a Europe-Israel Press Association (EIPA) tour of Israel’s northern borders.  The minibus carried a handful of international journalists; Joel Parker, a Syria specialist, Tel Aviv University PhD student, and researcher at the Dayan Centre who provided a history of, and background to, the current mise en scene; and a former top military official who filled in the blanks in an unofficial capacity for the information that the IDF spokespeople with whom we met weren’t obliged to divulge. The tour took the form of three phases: a public lookout post of the Golan Heights, a visit to the Quneitra crossing on the Israeli-Syrian border, and a final stopover at an Israeli military base overlooking Lebanon. While reflecting the sympathies of Israel’s position vis-à-vis her northward neighbours’ conflicts, the trip also captured the dire realities for the Syrian and Lebanese people looking forward: uncertainties abound as to how the Syrian conflict will play out, let alone how it will spill over into Lebanon, let alone whether Israel will be dragged into prolonged military conflict on either fronts.

The Golan Heights

Over the last forty years, Israel’s border with Syria has been its quietest. This is more so an indication of the pragmatism of the Ba’athist regime and Assad dynasty than it is a sign of cooperation, let alone amity — by any means. The Syrians and Israelis have held numerous backchannel talks amidst their vituperative back-and-forth public discourses, but to no avail. Perhaps the closest they’ve come to a formal political resolution took place in 1995, when Israeli President Itzhak Rabin nearly relinquished the Israeli-occupied Golan Heights for limited concessions and a formal peace deal with the Syrian president of the time, Hafez Assad. The Clinton-brokered deal fell apart at the last minute, however. There was another almost-peace deal in 2000 in Geneva, this time pushed aside by a sickly Hafez Assad.

The most accomplished of the quasi-diplomatic backchannel arrangements is likely the “Red Line” established following Syria’s invasion of Lebanon in 1976 in the aftermath of the start of the Lebanese civil war in 1975, during which the Israelis watched closely but did not object to Syria’s involvement so long as Syria remained about 20 km north of Lebanon’s border with Israel. Israel has traversed that line only a few times: in addition to tipping its wings at the Assads’ presidential palace more than once in a demonstration of military superiority, Israel decimated Syria’s North Korea-assisted nuclear program in 2000 under the code name Operation Orchard. But other than that, Syria and Israel have respected one another’s uneasy bedfellow relationship since 1973, wherein Syria was close to reclaiming the Golan Heights by force while coordinating with Sadat’s forces, a campaign that Egypt waged to regain her annexed Sinai Peninsula (lost during the “Six Day” Israeli-Arab war of 1967) and reconstitute her prowess as a formidable military force.

For Israel, a drawn-out conflict in Syria is a nightmare; the Israeli sentiment is and has always been “better the devil you know than the one you don’t.” Even throughout the Egyptian revolts, Israel preferred a Mubarak-led regime to a democratic one, and the same can be said for the current situation in Syria. More immediately and to the point, however, the conflict in Syria has been dangerously close to Israel’s border communities of late.  A few bombs have already dropped on the Israeli side of the border — misfires that, while not harming any Israelis, are especially disconcerting for Golan communities like Ramat Magshimim, a town located just 500 meters south of the Israeli-Syrian border.

The same goes for all six municipalities living in the Golan (24,000 Jews in two municipalities and 20,000 Druze in four others). “People don’t know if the explosions are Israeli military training or the Syrian war,” Michal Raikin, a Golan Regional Council representative, told us. Unlike residents in Ashkelon and Ashdod, two cities near the Gazan border, who receive 8-10 seconds of warning alerts before rocket attacks reach their neighbourhoods, residents of the Golan Heights find out that danger is imminent only after the first shell hits — a new take on ‘imminence’ to be sure. What’s more, the Iron Dome, Israel’s mobile all-weather air defense against short-range rocket attacks from Gaza, isn’t designed for the Syrian scenario. “Our shelters are open and cleaned,” Raikin asserted.

Pointing to a charred strip of land just beyond the Quneitra crossing, Ms. Raikin noted that just two weeks ago, while the Syrian regime was embroiled with the Free Syrian Army, Bashar Assad called on armed groups in Syria to direct their weapons at the Golan. Thankfully, his call to arms fell on deaf ears. The UN peacekeeping mission isn’t mandated to protect Israel against the effects of Syria’s civil war, and there’s little Israel can do but watch as the border is weaponized against the rules of the DMZ; whether by the Free Syrian Army or the Assad regime is beside the point. It will be two to five months before the Israeli government finishes the construction of a 90 km electric fence that will surround the Golan, running from the Hermon Mountains to the south. The fence is primarily designed to deter terrorism and keep Syrian defectors from making it into sovereign Israeli territory.

The Israeli Defense Force is, like always, the only bulwark against the possible threat of attack, or war, for that matter. Their responsibilities are all the more pertinent in the Golan: unlike other parts of Israel, the soldiers who protect the border in the Golan are also directly responsible for safety of the citizenry who live there, should the possibility of danger arise.

Besides the residents of the Heights, its economic and social value reign high: three million people visit the Golan Heights annually— mostly Israeli. It is the most attractive and popular destination spot in Israel for Israelis, and Raikin was sure to tell us that there were big tourist plans in the works for the Golan going forward. It was interesting to note that, between skiing in the Hermon Mountains, abundant wineries, hiking trails, and other outdoors activities, it seemed that even under a democratic and peaceable Syria, Israelis would be loath to conceive of giving back the Golan Heights. I passed exactly this hypothesis by the top military official who accompanied us: “We’ll never give it back,” he quickly replied. I’m not sure how anyone could attest to the voracity of that statement, but it was issued with seemingly unwavering resolve.

Losing the Golan Heights has long been a sore spot for Syrians. Its strategic height, beauty, and historical significance account for much. After it was lost, Hafez Assad told his people that one day he wanted to urinate off the Golan Heights into Lake Tiberias, certainly a less pious picture than the one usually conjured up — Jesus walking on water.

As we made our way back onto the minibus I took one last glance from the lookout point. A week later, a good friend of mine told me that he was happening by the very same spot with his wife for a picnic. Unexpectedly, they watched a piece of the civil war play out over lunch: tanks rolling by, guns blazing.

The Quneitra Crossing

Making our way to the Quneitra crossing, it became evident just how close the skirmish between Assad and the rebel army was to the border — so close, in fact, that IDF and UN members at the crossing were able to see the fighting. When two weeks ago, the rebels took the area over for a brief few hours, they managed to replace the Assad regime’s Syrian flag with their own. For this symbolic act, retaliation from the regime came through tenfold, and the flag was once again replaced when Assad’s army turned the tides back.

Quneitra was established as a crossing in 1974 when, after the 1973 Yom Kippur War, UN forces dug in. The United Nations Disengagement Observer Force (UNDOF) was established to monitor the ceasefire between Israel and Syria. UNDOF is composed of multinational forces. The Austrians begrudgingly left a few days ago; the Fijians are set to replace them.

Quneitra is the only major crossing between Israel and Syria, but little if any actual crossing takes place. A few Druze pass through now and again for nuptials. From what we were told, if a Syrian Druze wife crosses into Israel to be wed she isn’t able to return. Other than that, a few Muslim sheiks have passed through on an annual basis over the last couple of years. There’s also a limited apple trade between the Druze communities dating back to 2005. This year, they broke a record with an estimated 14,300 tonnes of apples being carried from Israel into Syria. Syria allows this exchange to continue in order to maintain loyalties from its Druze populations on the Israeli-occupied Golan Heights. The Druze in the Golan as well as those in Syria are mostly loyal to Assad (unlike the Druze in Israel’s Galilee region who are instead loyal to the Israeli state, often in the form of some of Israel’s top and most fierce and proud soldiers).

Since the civil war broke out, many Syrians have approached the border for medical care, though none have passed through the Quneitra crossing. In less severe cases, the IDF or UNDOF will toss medical kits onto the Syrian side to allow for self-treatment. In more dire circumstances, Syrians will be brought into Israel on a strictly humanitarian basis in order to receive medical care before being immediately returned. Recent reports note that there have been over 100 such cases, and that the victims are increasingly younger and younger, initially in their 20s and 30s; now, 9-year old and 15-year old kids were brought into hospital just the other day.

“If we hear shooting we put on vests,” an IDF soldier told us. But other than that, it’s business as usual for the IDF at Quneitra. And unless there’s a change in the strategic balance — chemical weapons or Hezbollah attacks, for example — it is likely to remain that way for the foreseeable future.

An IDF Base Overlooking Lebanon

Skirting through the mountainous terrain and apparent only by an absence of trees, the fence just south of the blue line was visible from an IDF base overlooking Lebanon. We were within eyeshot of three Lebanese villages: Hanine, Ein Ebel, and Yaroun. From this vantage point on the northern edifice of the base, the IDF monitors Hezbollah’s every move. Home to once robust and diverse communities of Druze, Christians, Shia and Sunnis, only the Shia remain. Hezbollah has largely taken over the area since the mid-1980s, but especially following Israel’s withdrawal from Lebanon in 2000, driving the remaining populations north.

1982 is significant insofar as it led to the eventual creation of Hezbollah as a defensive force against the Israeli military in Lebanon. Israel’s 1982 campaign deep into Lebanese territory (all the way to Beirut, actually), and its subsequent extended presence in the south is also marked as the conflict that tipped international opinion against Israel. At one time, Israel was a democratic David to the Arab world’s authoritarian Goliath. Following Israel’s incursion into Lebanon, and especially the complicity of the IDF in the Sabra and Shatila massacres, Israel was assigned the role of regional bad guy in European and world opinion. For good or bad, the United States remain an overwhelming exception to that rule.

Arming the villages closest to the Israeli border with rockets built into residents’ basements and driveways—whether they want their houses weaponized or not — Hezbollah’s arsenal lays in waiting. Just west of Yaroun a “nature reserve” is maintained from where Hezbollah tucks away a suspected plethora of rockets amidst the foliate and behind the dense array of trees. An unnamed IDF spokesperson relayed to us that there are three times as many rockets implanted into the landscape than were present in 2006 — the last time Israel stepped foot into Lebanese territory to put an end to Hezbollah rocket attacks. Each village’s arsenal has its own set of predetermined targets inside Israel’s borders, the former IDF official remarked; underground towns and tunnels, the unnamed IDF spokesperson added, are fashioned in preparation for the next assault on Israel.

The human shield tactic that Hezbollah employs is problematic for Israeli defense strategies. This point of contention was highlighted in Israel’s 2006 campaign into Lebanon when the IDF confronted rocket attacks and other assaults from schools, mosques, and apartments on a frequent basis. The IDF has recently prepared for this situation to whatever extent it can. If boots need to go on the ground again to root out the rockets, colour-coded digital map technology can be used to pinpoint the exact location of weapons and weapon-holders in order to differentiate soldier from civilian.

The likelihood that this technology will be in the IDF’s employ is unfortunately quite strong. When Hezbollah will choose to unleash its bombardment of rockets — some of which, thanks to Iranian assistance and provision, can reach the entire span of the Israeli state from Metullah in the north to Eilat in the south — is the question. Hezbollah leader Hassan Nasrallah announced that he plans to attack the Israeli Galilee. The IDF is likely less concerned about that possibility than it is that Hezbollah will overtake an Israeli village on the border. Analogous to the Free Syrian Army’s symbolic flag-changing victory, the Israelis fear that Hezbollah may be able to tear down an Israeli flag and replace it with one of their own. Even if for a few minutes, this dooming scenario would prove destructive to Israeli security while boosting Hezbollah’s legitimacy and confidence-building capacities.

Of course, the amassing of these ordinances is directly in breach of UNSC resolution 1701, which calls for Hezbollah to remain north of the Litany River.  But the United Nations Interim Force in Lebanon (UNIFIL) that patrols the Lebanese side is ineffectual. In response to their more assiduous efforts in the past, pipe bombs were peppered on the main routes that the UNIFIL mission takes as a deterrent to the UN fore in fulfilling their mandate. For now, they act as deterrent-cum-liaison. The Lebanese Armed Forces (LAF) also aid in the effort to keep the peace, though their numbers and capabilities are a pittance next to Hezbollah’s capacities. Nonetheless, the Israelis, UN, and LAF meet once a month to discuss developments, strategies, and future plans. The UN is the intermediary through whom the LAF speaks to the Israeli soldiers, refusing as they do to speak directly to their Israeli counterparts. The Israelis don’t mind, we were told, though they also wouldn’t deny an opportunity to engage in direct communication.

The vibe at the Quneitra crossing differed markedly from the Lebanese border. There, a relaxed atmosphere attenuated the thought that we were close to a war zone. On the Lebanese border, however no signs of war were apparent (though they were ostensibly hidden), and yet tensions in the briefing ran much higher (I suppose partly as a result).

Uncertainties Abound

The well-known 14^th century Islamic scholar Ibn Taymiyya once characterized the Alawites as infidels, remarking that all infidels belong to one nation. For centuries, and for many Muslims, Alawites were therefore considered sub-human throughout the Fertile Crescent. This is precisely why, when Hafez Assad came to power, he had an authoritative cleric rule that the Alawites were descendents of Ali and therefore legitimate members of the Shia despite the fact that the Alawites consider Ali to be God — an apostasy for Sunnis and Shi’ites alike. Centuries later, Hafez Assad took power in November of 1970 under the Ba’athist banner. In actuality, Assad represented the Alawite community’s elite interests, and the promise to maintain an Alawite-institutionalized powerhold over the country.

Upon Bashar Assad’s succession to power following his father’s death in 2000, the roughly 12-14% Alawite minority’s disproportionately dominant role in the military, security services, and Ba’athist government was secured again. The Alawite community had roots in the military dating back to the French mandate when the French — noting that the Sunni majority was in contempt of minority groups in Lebanon — encouraged minority participation in the army as a divide and rule strategy. The fact that the Alawites enjoy a preponderant role in the Ba’athist regime is somewhat ironic: on the face of it, the Ba’ath Party is supposed to be an Arab socialist-nationalist party. Alawite chauvinism serves as yet another point of contention for the Sunni majority in Syria, who are now seizing the opportunity to regain their political predominance. Alawite and Ba’athist legitimacy following this most brutal of state action against the Syrian people’s repeated calls for reform is thus threatened like never before.

Confidence in Bashar’s abilities to lead his country was in fact always in doubt. He is no strong man and no state-builder like his father was, and many reports indicate that the only reason he was left in a position of nominal authority is owed to the fragmentation and sectarian nature of the Syrian state elite. In other words, rather than vie for power in a vacuum created by his ouster, the Syrian elite permitted his leadership presence in order to maintain the status quo — an arrangement that, since the civil war, is undoubtedly shaken, if not dissolved permanently.

While many (secular) Sunnis within the military and business community are on the Assad side of Syria, their decision to stick with Assad is motivated by self-interest, not ideological or religious affinity. Defections by top Sunni military officials during the revolt and throughout civil war bespeak the fragility of this arrangement. As intimated above, for the Alawites, the Assad regime’s success is tied to existential concerns: if Assad falls, sectarian retaliation against the Alawites will be left to a matter of scale alone. This, despite the fact that for years the Assad dynasty left many Alawite communities deprived and disenfranchised too.

The Free Syrian Army is therefore mostly comprised of defected Sunni generals with a mélange of lower-level rebel fighters, the most sizeable and also disconcerting of whom are Sunni Islamists that have been oppressed under the Assad regimes since day one. Hence the controversial “head nod,” as our resident Syria specialist Joel Parker put it, for the Gulf States to arm the Sunni rebels by the Obama administration a few weeks ago when the Americans agreed to arm the Syrian rebels with an undisclosed amount of tactical weaponry. If the Assad regime is defeated and a bellicose Sunni Islamist regime assumes power over the Syrian state and its military apparatus, it is likely that the weapons that the Gulf countries (and perhaps some Western ones as well) supply to the rebels will be turned against Israel. Perhaps this will take place after the Sunnis seek revenge against Hezbollah by storming Lebanon — who knows.

But despite the near ubiquitous reportage since the outbreak of the civil war opening that the Assad regime will inevitably fall, there are good reasons to think that he can stick it out too. The support of the secular Sunni elite gives him the numbers, while a lack of political or military will on the part of Western states to impose a no-fly zone like they did in Libya is another, regardless of whether the responsibility to protect should be invoked or not. Indeed, China and Russia’s patronage networks in Syria run deep, and the UN is unlikely to make a meaningful move to bring about a détente to the civil war anytime soon; therefore, military superiority favours the Assad regime. And for as long as this balance of power is in his favour, Bashar is likely to continue to prevail, with limited guerilla tactics and street battles against him to continue into the foreseeable future.

According to the National Covenant of 1943, Lebanon is supposed to be ruled by a Sunni-Maronite alliance. When Lebanon’s civil war broke out in 1975, Hafez Assad viewed Syrian intervention in Lebanon as the only solution to a Sunni-ruled and therefore less than favourable neighbouring state. In came support for Hezbollah. Despite the fact that the Syrian Shia, along with most other Syrians, are opposed to the Assad regime, Assad successfully convinced Lebanon’s Iran-backed Hezbollah to cross into Lebanon in numbers to fight for his survival. And they are making a dent: the recent Hezbollah-assisted victory in Qusayr lends credibility to the claim that perhaps Assad won’t fall so quickly after all.

But with that said, Hezbollah is taking on significant casualties, too. And what’s more, they are losing legitimacy in their home base. Indeed, if Hezbollah pretends to be a nationalist force for the good of Lebanon, their incursions into Syria portend their failures as such. With their legitimacy shaken, it is difficult to ascertain what their next move might be. Whether it’s a return home to lick their wounds or an increase in hostilities with Israel to regain some of their legitimacy at home, is difficult to tell.

It is clear, however, that the Syrian civil war is spilling over into Lebanon. Just the other day, the firebrand Sunni cleric Ahmed al-Assir made headlines when his followers clashed with the LAF following what appeared to be Hezbollah provocations near the port city of Sidon in Lebanon. Sheikh al-Assir is a virulent critic of Hezbollah and the Assad regime, and many Lebanese Sunni may welcome his newfound fame, but it also may prove to be the spark that lights a drawn-out sectarian conflagration in Lebanon.

In the words of William Harris, “The question is whether Shia will stay with Hezbollah through the party’s confrontation with international justice, regime change in Syria, and revelations of financial irregularities… Hezbollah has Shia insecurity and the Iranian theocracy to help it survive a shock loss of the Assad regime, its Arab patron. More broadly, transformation in Syria promises to convulse the affairs of all Lebanon’s little worlds.”

Indeed, how this will affect Israel remains to be seen. An Assad victory could restore the status quo — not a bad deal for Israel, as far as Israelis are concerned. An Assad loss throws open a myriad of possibilities, a newly belligerent border with Syria chief among them. As it stands, however, it seems as though the Syrian civil war will continue unabated with little to no action on the Lebanese front. Israel’s northern borders remain secure for now, but Israel’s northern communities keep their shelters open and clean, just in case.

About the Author

Matt Gordner is a Trudeau Scholar and a PhD student at the University of Toronto’s Department of Political Science. Matt holds an Honours BA in Philosophy and Political Science from York University, an MA (magna cum laude) in Middle Eastern History from Tel Aviv University, and an MA in Political Theory from the University of Alberta. Gordner specializes in Middle Eastern politics, comparative politics, and political theory. Specifically, his research focuses are on democratization in the Arab world, Islamist and secular-liberal discourses, and Israeli-Palestinian politics. Gordner’s dissertation work centers on a comparison of Egyptian and Tunisian democratic transition. He has received a number of awards for community involvement and academic achievement, including the Queen Elizabeth II Award, the Alberta Heritage Award, and the Government of Alberta Citizenship Award. Gordner is a Senior Analyst at Consultancy Africa Intelligence and the director of The Peace by Piece Initiative, a non-profit organization dedicated to dialogue on sensitive issues of local and global scope.