At the annual Alma Center conference, held on May 21 at Kibbutz Lohamei HaGeta’ot in the Western Galilee, I presented the audience with a photo of my father’s home, Moshe Zehavi, of blessed memory, in Damascus.
The weekend before the conference, U.S. President Donald Trump surprised us with numerous developments regarding American policy in the region, and one of the main headlines was his handshake with the new president of Syria, Ahmed Al-Sharaa. Talk of normalization, once a fantasy, began to materialize. “Hummus in Damascus” goes the Israeli expression that bordered on cliché, but might it yet come true?
My father died on the day Damascus fell, on December 8, 2024, and there isn’t a day I don’t think of him. He shaped who I am. When I looked at the updated photo of the house in Damascus, I noticed familiar leaves on the right-hand side. Anyone living in the Galilee immediately recognizes them – it’s a loquat tree. We all have it in our yard, next to the olive and lemon trees.
Then I understood why my father loved loquats so much. It was the taste of his childhood, there in Damascus. This week I told my team at the Alma Center that if indeed the day comes and there is normalization, I’ll be the first to get on a bus to Damascus to taste my father’s loquat. Is that reasonable? How far-fetched is it?
The conference delved deeply into this question and, unfortunately, reached sobering conclusions: it appears the new Syrian regime is replicating a familiar Islamist deception pattern—showing a moderate face to gain diplomatic and economic advantage while hiding a long-term, less moderate agenda.
Even if Al-Sharaa’s intentions are indeed moderate (contrary to the prevailing opinion at the conference), the stability of the regime remains a constant cloud over Damascus. In any case, jihadist elements – both Sunni and the troubling Turkish influence – will not disappear from the Syrian landscape any time soon, and they have already threatened to thwart any normalization process between Syria and Israel.
Lebanon
I mentioned at the conference that the last time we met, in May 2024, we could still hear IDF strikes in Lebanon from the speaker’s hall.
A few weeks later, Hezbollah expanded its fire toward northern communities. Our graphs clearly showed it – a sharp spike in June 2024. In Kfar Vradim, where I live, as well as for many in attendance, the feeling last year was that something was closing in on us, that there was more fire. This experience is entirely different from that of Tel Aviv residents facing Houthi missiles. We in the north have 15 seconds to run to shelter – a task that is never really completed in so short a time. In a photo we took from the balcony in August 2024, you can see Iron Dome interceptions and falling rockets. That was our war experience, nearly every day. The photo was taken just minutes before we ran to the shelter – an event that repeated itself many times. We hope this reality does not return.
During the war, northern Israel absorbed over 5,000 attacks from Hezbollah. We don’t count individual rockets, but rather, enemy strike events- this is the correct research method. To our sorrow, 46 civilians and 83 soldiers were killed.
Today, months after the ceasefire agreement, the conference discussed rebuilding the north. But the recovery is not only physical – building homes, cultivating fields, reviving towns – but also mental, and that will take time.
Currently, about 60% of northern residents have returned to their homes, but the situation varies from one community to another. When asked if we’ll return home, I reply that the security situation on the Lebanese border has never been better. But the big question is – will it stay that way?
Let’s examine the terms of the ceasefire from November 27, 2024. That July, I traveled to Congress in the U.S. with three clear messages: There must be a deadline for Hezbollah’s disarmament, there must be effective enforcement of the ceasefire, and Hezbollah must be disarmed – not just withdrawn. Hezbollah cannot “withdraw” from its home in southern Lebanon.
Ostensibly, these three principles appear in the ceasefire agreement, but the deadline was given to Israel, to withdraw from Lebanon within 60 days, which of course did not fully happen. Israel maintains five positions on the border. And the ceasefire? I call it a “pause between fires”—there have been nearly 400 Israeli strikes since it began, an average of two per day.
Israel retains the ability to act, and this is critical. Still, in the north, which relies on tourism, it’s unpleasant to wake up to explosions at night. This is the dilemma for the Israeli government—how to create normal life for northern residents amid such background noise.
UNIFIL contributes nothing to the solution. In just the last month and a half, there have been 11 violent incidents between UNIFIL and “the field”- likely Hezbollah, which blocks them and prevents independent operation. This force must leave Lebanon. In the past, I was still willing to say a good word about them, but during this war, UNIFIL proved to be a overall harmful element to the mission of disarming Hezbollah south of the Litani River.
The Lebanese army, which is supposed to disarm Hezbollah, is itself a huge question mark. We hear in both Israeli and international media that it is acting. We see reports of it finding 500 Hezbollah or other weapon depots in Lebanon. But where are the weapons? The IDF published many photos of Hezbollah arms it removed from Lebanon. Where are the arms the Lebanese army found? There is almost no documentation. We have one video of a tunnel found, and one photo showing American and French officers inspecting rockets that don’t resemble Hezbollah’s known advanced arms.
Before we speak of high diplomacy, we must remember that people live in Israel’s north.
Sixty thousand were evacuated during the war, and tens of thousands like me who weren’t evacuated lived in deep fear of a Hezbollah invasion into the Galilee, as well as facing real danger from rockets.
To build trust and to be able to return home, we, the residents, must see proof that Hezbollah really disarmed. The woman living in Avivim and Zar’it needs to see that evidence, to see those 500 depots. If there are 500 depots, there should be 500 photos. But there aren’t.
Added to that is the knowledge that commanders in the Lebanese army are actively cooperating with Hezbollah to hide its military activity in southern Lebanon. This cannot continue. If Lebanon claims to have changed, its president and prime minister must provide proof, because in the Middle East, words- no matter how beautiful – don’t always match actions.
An example: Lebanese Prime Minister Nawaf Salam promised American envoy Morgan Ortagus that Hezbollah would not be part of the government, only to later declare a “non-political” government—where five ministers were appointed by Hezbollah and the Shiite Amal movement.
The picture is complex. On one hand, there are positive developments, like the fact that Iranian flights almost no longer land at Beirut’s Hariri Airport, once nearly fully controlled by Hezbollah. Money may still arrive on diplomatic flights, but far less than the organization would like. There are also reports of confiscated funds and dismissal of Hezbollah-supporting workers at the airport. These are good directions—but not enough.
Many ask me what the Lebanese think. Do they still support Hezbollah? First, we must stop using the term “the Lebanese” as a monolith. Lebanese society is very diverse, with traditional supporters and opponents of Hezbollah. Our research question is whether traditional supporters, those receiving services from Hezbollah such as fuel, pharmacies, supermarkets, medical services, and banks, still stand behind it. According to available information, including municipal election results in the Bekaa, and in southern Lebanon, traditional support from Hezbollah’s base continues. There are voices of dissent, but they are not enough to indicate a dramatic shift.
Finally is the issue of normalization with Lebanon. This week, after Lebanese President Aoun was photographed with Sheikh Muwaffak Tarif, the spiritual leader of the Druze community in Israel, Israeli social media lit up with hope—perhaps this was a first sign. But Aoun quickly issued a clarification that he didn’t know who the man was. It’s not really believable that he didn’t know. The mere need for such a clarification shows how far we still are from the word “normalization,” unfortunately.
What can be done? Share a roadmap to the world
It cannot be that Hezbollah is defined as a terrorist organization everywhere in the world, while in Lebanon it is a legitimate political party and social movement. Even when Lebanon speaks of disarmament, the president talks about “national dialogue.” That phrase has been part of Lebanese discourse since before the Second Lebanon War in 2006.
Therefore, for a better future, for both Israelis and Lebanese, Hezbollah must cease being a legitimate entity in Lebanon. That won’t happen as long as its banks operate there, with UNIFIL as it is, and a Lebanese army that does not help build trust. Under these working conditions, I do not see how change will come.
I believe there truly is a golden opportunity for change, because the situation is not simple for Hezbollah either. But we can’t keep fooling ourselves, as the State of Israel now understands well after October 7. In the Lebanese arena too, normalization cannot happen if there is an actor that can continue to threaten us and completely rejects the existence of the State of Israel. This issue must be addressed at the root.
One Response
I know that the whole world would have turned against Israel, even its friends, but that happened anyway.
The Golden opportunity to deliver a death sentence to Hezbollah was during the Nasrallah funural show in the stadium.
In stead the IAF flew over in a salut.