Israel's plan to double the number of settlers in the Golan Heights is met with conflicting emotions

Earlier this month, Syrian leader Bashar Assad was ousted after nearly 25 years in power

A dry mountain wind whipped through a cluster of Israeli flags at the entrance of a kibbutz in the Israeli-annexed Golan Heights, where the tranquility belies the tumultuous events unfolding nearby.

Earlier this month, Syrian President Bashar Assad was ousted after nearly 25 years in power. Within hours, Israeli tanks rolled past a razor wire-reinforced fence into the Golan's demilitarized buffer zone in Syria, created as part of a 1974 ceasefire between the countries. Israel said it was a temporary move to secure its border.

Days later, the Israeli government approved Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu’s $11 million plan of financial incentives to double the population of Israeli settlers in the Golan Heights, which Israel seized from Syria in the 1967 Mideast war.

Israel will “continue to hold onto it, make it flourish and settle it,” Netanyahu said.

The international community, with one exception, considers the Golan to be occupied Syrian 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, roughly half of them Israeli settlers and the other half Arab Druze, a religious minority spread among Syria, Lebanon, Israel and the Golan Heights.

In the towns and kibbutzim of the Golan, news of the plan to increase the number of settlers was met with a mixture of skepticism, excitement and shock.

Too much growth, too fast?

Paul Hecht, who at 42 has lived in the Golan nearly all his life, greeted the news with “mixed emotions, to be honest, because I love the Golan Heights the way it is. I'm kind of afraid that the place will be overpopulated but at the same time, of course, I want the place to advance.”

The attraction is the rural way of life, the open spaces and the mountains, he explained. Doubling the population “sounds a bit extreme," especially if attempted in a short time frame, he said, noting the region needs infrastructure improvements — notably to roads — for its existing population before more people are brought in.

The Golan's economy relies heavily on farming and the hospitality industry. Previous government attempts to attract more settlers have had little success — in large part because of a lack of job opportunities and the long distance from major cities.

A well-publicized move in 2019 to name a Golan settlement after then-U.S. President Donald Trump failed to attract a major influx of residents.

But Hecht said he believed more Israelis could be tempted by a life in the Golan after Assad's fall.

“I think that will that will bring in a lot more people who want to come and live in the Golan Heights because of the sense of security that people will have here,” he said. “And obviously the best view and the best nature in Israel.”

The dream of a rural lifestyle

One such new settler could be Shlomo Benhaim, 60, who has been thinking of moving to the Golan for years.

“It’s my dream. If I will fulfill it, who knows,” he said during a day trip with his wife to Ein Zivan, a kibbutz about two kilometers (1.2 miles) from the Syrian buffer zone. One of the oldest kibbutzim dating from the late 1960s, Ein Zivan has barely 500 residents today.

“I love the Golan. It’s a unique area in Israel, very unique, with a lot of history, archaeology, modern history, a lot of memories,” he said.

But moving wouldn’t be easy. The area is popular with mainly Israeli tourists who come for the mountains and outdoor activities, but it's a roughly three-hour drive from urban centers with well-paying jobs like Tel Aviv.

On the other hand, there’s also a good education system and no traffic jams.

“There’s a lot of benefit to (life) in the Golan, and also a lot of negative things,” he said.

In nearby Kibbutz Merom Golan, hotel manager Shefi Mod said that with tax breaks and cheap land, “I think the support of the government indeed can help people to come and live here.”

Mod first came to the area as a soldier decades ago and liked it so much he moved here. But whether others will be tempted to follow suit is still unclear.

Concern among the Druze

Many Golan Heights Druze consider themselves Syrians under occupation. While Israeli citizenship is open to them, most have not taken it and have Israeli residency permits instead. They have a complicated relationship with Israel.

“Whatever this government wants to do, it won’t ask our permission,” said Khaled Elshaer, a restaurant owner in the Druze village of Masada.

The plan to double the number of settlers left him “numb and shocked,” he said.

He considers the Golan to be Syrian. But asked if he wanted it to be a part of Syria, he said no.

“I feel Golani. Neither Israeli nor Syrian,” he said. “We are connected to the land, not to who will be president over it.”

Local surgeon Ali Abu Awad stressed that the Golan Heights are “an essential part of Syria,” and noted 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 there was clear discrimination in access to higher education and preferential treatment to Jewish citizens of Israel. The country's Arab citizens often suffer from discrimination, despite official guarantees of equal civil rights.

Abu Awad was dismissive of the government's plan to double the number of settlers.

“They can say what they want,” he said. “But until now, they have said this before and they have failed.”