For centuries, the Druze minority, a secretive ethno-religious group branching from Shiite Islam, has survived the turbulence of the Middle East through a strategy of discretion and sometimes loyalty to the states they live. Concentrated in Lebanon, Syria, Israel, Palestine and Jordan, the Druze have often avoided open conflict while defending their local communities and seeking some form of self-governance within existing state structures.

In Syria, most of this unique minority lives in the south of the country, in the province of Suweyda, near the Jordanian border. The area is also home to Jabal al-Druze (Mountain of the Druze) and many archaeological sites. Syrian Druze, like the volcanic mountains and fruitful land of the region they live in, have stood the test of time, due to their autonomy and resistance.

Some estimate that around half a million mostly Druze live in Suweyda, alongside small Bedouin tribes, as well as Christian minorities. Many Druze work in agriculture, cultivating grapes, olives, apples and wheat. Druze are represented by their sheiks, whom they respect deeply and follow, but the sheiks sometimes have different opinions about their political issues.

The relations among the groups in Suweyda have long been fragile due to a mix of things: historical rivalries, resources, but mostly political manipulation.

And during the Assad regime, Suweyda remained one of the least militarized regions, trying to avoid bloody violence elsewhere in the country.

Last year, Suweyda saw the anti-government protests that led to Assad’s regime fall and the new government led by interim President Ahmed Al-Sharaa taking over the country.

After a war that killed more than half a million people and displaced over 7 million, according to the Syrian Observatory for Human Rights, Syrians, regardless of their ethnicity or religion, were hoping for some sense of normality.

Syria’s new president has promised to stand for all Syrians, including the Druze. In one interview, he stated that drafting a new constitution to replace the current Baathist charter would take several years, citing the total disruption of the state caused by the civil war.

Today, the Druze have one representative in the Cabinet: the minister of Agriculture.

Caught under fire

As a journalist, I have always been fascinated by Syria and visited a refugee camp in Idlib back in 2017 when I joined the Turkish Red Crescent (Kızılay) that delivered aid to Atma, the biggest camp for internally displaced Syrians. As a Bosnian, the scenes I have seen there and the trauma that children have survived reminded me of my own country’s bloody war and genocide. I will never forget one little girl who stood barefoot at the entrance of the tent she lived in. As a former refugee, I have always focused in my work to regions and countries where different ethnicities, religions and sects live side by side.

Syria, for me, has one of the most complex demographies to understand in the sense of how the country is being run and how all the ethnicities, groups and sects are incorporated in society. I was paying attention to the new leader in Damascus and whether he would be able to unite all the Syrians in order to give them a chance to live peacefully and move on after the war, despite many divisions among them. In Bosnia, we are still grappling with the divisions, genocide denial and the bloody past that prevents a stable future and drives many young people to leave.

On July 11, a Druze merchant was reportedly robbed and assaulted at a makeshift Bedouin checkpoint on the Damascus-Suwayda highway. In retaliation, Druze detained several Bedouin suspects, and clashes erupted. Several other incidents took place, and the situation escalated, leading to the deadly clashes between the Bedouins and Druze communities.

More than 300 people have been killed, including four children, and many were injured in the city of Suwayda, according to Syria’s Ministry of Interior. The government deployed security forces to prevent further escalation, and they clashed with the Druze. The Syrian Presidency later called some of the actions by its forces "unlawful criminal acts” that are yet to be investigated. The fragile cease-fire was declared by Damascus three days later.

Just a couple of hours after the cease-fire was announced and the situation looked calmer, Israel launched a round of airstrikes targeting the Syrian government forces in Suwayda and later the military headquarters and Syria’s presidential palace in Damascus.

Israeli Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu says the strikes were aimed at "preventing atrocities against our Druze brothers.” But few observers accept this narrative. And Druze’s call for help wasn’t uniform across the region, while some leaders have requested Israel’s help and aid, others say they prefer Syrian national unity.

At least three people were killed in Damascus, and the country’s Ministry of Foreign Affairs said the strikes were part of Israel’s broader strategy to undermine Syria’s security.

But exploiting Syria’s internal instability to expand Israeli military reach will weaken Syria’s post-Assad reforms. Israel was clear since the fall of Assad that it would not allow Syrian government forces based in southern Syria. This was a clear message to al-Sharaa that they would not allow the country’s presence in the Druze majority city.

As I write this story, the Syrian army is withdrawing from Suweyda. The new cease-fire has been struck between Druze, Beduins and the government. Israel has called on Damascus to leave the city and threatened to "continue to operate vigorously in Suweyda to destroy forces that attacked the Druze until they leave completely.”

Caught between decades-old tribal conflicts and a complex political landscape, the Syrian Druze now find themselves pawns in a much larger geopolitical game, one of the biggest challenges yet for interim President al-Sharaa.

This intervention follows a pattern: Israel breaches international law by bombing a sovereign country. It may also jeopardize the ongoing talks, strongly backed by the U.S., on normalizing relations between Israel and Syria.

Over the past year, Israel has significantly ramped up its military operations across the region. Many fear these actions, if left unchecked, could reshape not just the geopolitics of the Middle East but of the wider world.

In Gaza, relentless Israeli aggression since October 2023 has led to genocide. According to the U.N. and human rights reports, over 40,000 civilians have been killed.

Southern Lebanon has faced repeated Israeli strikes targeting Hezbollah positions, with massive civilian displacement as collateral damage. Iran has also been targeted by Israeli airstrikes, bringing the U.S. deeper into the conflict.

'Bombing nations for peace'

Just like in Gaza, Israel frames these operations as defensive. Critics argue they are part of a strategy of permanent confrontation, designed to keep military and political dominance while keeping the region in a cycle of instability. It also serves to divert attention from Israel’s controversial plans for Palestinians.

Will the U.S. President Donald Trump confront the reality that unchecked Israeli militarism is fueling the very wars it claims to oppose?

Is Israel seeking security, or is it entrenching a state of permanent war?

By intervening in fractured states like Syria, devastating Gaza under the pretext of counterterrorism, and striking deep into Lebanon and Iran, Israel is redrawing the map of conflict in the Middle East. Its defense of the Druze in Syria looks less like a humanitarian mission and more like a calculated move in a fight for regional supremacy.

For the Syrian Druze, the cost is immediate; their homes turned into battlegrounds, their communities used as leverage in a geopolitical standoff.

For the region, the implications are stark: a future where cease-fires are fleeting, wars are endless and peace is still a distant dream.

The Syrian government's task of rebuilding the country on the ruins of Assad’s atrocities and getting all the Syrian factions at the table has now become even more difficult. At the center of yet another storm sits Israel, armed, unchallenged and increasingly unaccountable.

And I cannot stop thinking about that little girl in Idlib. And if she is scared again that her country will end in turmoil.