Al-Sharaa’s calculus: Normalization at what cost?

When former Syrian President Bashar al-Assad was asked whether Syria might normalize relations with Israel—along the lines of those Arab states that leapt aboard the gilded platform of the Abraham Accords—his answer was brusque, unequivocal. “We can only have normal relations with Tel Aviv when we get our land back,” he said, referring, of course, to the Golan Heights: territory Israel has held since 1967 and annexed, unilaterally and in defiance of international law, in 1980.

In an October 2020 interview with the Russian state agency Sputnik, Assad was no less direct. “Our position has been very clear since the beginning of the peace talks in the 1990s, nearly three decades ago. We said that for Syria, peace is about rights. And our right is our land.” He concluded with chilling simplicity: “It’s a very simple issue. So yes, it would be possible when Israel is ready—but it is not, and it never has been.”

Then, as now, Israel was unwilling to return the land it captured more than half a century ago. And now, the appetite for even symbolic withdrawal has evaporated. Five years ago, it was the Golan. Today, it includes fresh territory seized in the vacuum left by Assad’s fall. The Israeli military has expanded its reach in recent months, almost tripling the size of the area under its control, as the new rulers in Damascus—an unstable coalition of jihadist Salafi factions—struggled to form even the semblance of a coherent response.

In that same Sputnik interview, Assad dismissed any suggestion of secret contacts. “We have not seen a single official from the Israeli regime ready to take even one step towards peace,” he said, as if to extinguish any illusions about quiet channels or backroom deals.

But times change. The new Syrian government, forged from the fire of Assad’s collapse, appears far more amenable to accommodation. Following last week’s lifting of US sanctions, Syria’s President Ahmed al-Sharaa met with Donald Trump in Riyadh. Trump, ever the dealmaker, dangled the prospect of normalization—on condition that Syria sign the Abraham Accords, expel all “foreign terrorists” (a category that, according to the White House, includes “Palestinian terrorists”), and assist the United States in preventing a revival of ISIS.

Signals from Damascus came swiftly, though obliquely. Ali Al-Rifai, the public relations chief at Syria’s Ministry of Information, gave a carefully worded interview to Israel’s Kan TV, expressing Syria’s desire for peace “with everyone, without exception.” When pressed, he did not exclude Israel.

Soon after, US Secretary of State Marco Rubio emerged from a meeting in Turkey with Syrian Foreign Minister Asaad Al-Shaibani. He described a Damascus increasingly open to Washington’s demands: normalization with Israel, expulsion of foreign fighters, removal of what it termed “terrorists.” The language was unmistakably American. The intent, unmistakably strategic.

All indications suggest that Al-Sharaa and his inner circle are prepared to climb aboard the normalization train—whatever the price of the ticket. Concessions, it seems, are a currency they are willing to spend.

The obstacle, however, is not Al-Sharaa. It is the other party at the table. Netanyahu’s government has displayed no enthusiasm for Trump’s proposal. The US president is eager for another triumph under the Abraham Accords brand—especially after normalization talks with Riyadh stalled, at least for now, over Saudi demands Israel’s far-right coalition deems impossible. This is an Israeli leadership that believes peace is something imposed through power, not earned through compromise.

Despite reports of Turkish-brokered security talks between Israeli and Syrian officials in recent weeks, Netanyahu’s government remains unmoved. It refuses to contemplate a withdrawal from any of the newly occupied Syrian lands.

This, after all, is the same Israel that refuses to recognize a Palestinian state on any border, that sees the West Bank not as a bargaining chip but as a biblical inheritance. It views the Golan Heights in the same way: part of the sovereign whole, not up for discussion, certainly not for return—whether to Assad’s remnants or to whatever regime replaces him.

So, will Ahmed al-Sharaa now surrender 15% of Syria’s territory for the sake of a handshake with Donald Trump and a photograph beneath the flags of Tel Aviv and Damascus?

And if such a deal is sealed, will Netanyahu, ever the tactician, settle for that? Or will fresh demands follow?

Far more crucial, perhaps, is how ordinary Syrians will respond. These are the same Syrians who once filled the streets in defiance of Assad, who pinned their hopes on a new regime unshackled from Russian and Iranian dominion. How will they react to watching their new leaders pivot towards Washington—and, by extension, to Tel Aviv?

Last December, Bashar al-Assad’s reign came to its long and bitter end. His regime collapsed under the weight of accusations that he had handed over Syria’s sovereignty to the Kremlin and to Tehran. In exchange for Iranian and Russian firepower, he had kept his hold on power, crushing an uprising that began fourteen years earlier.

But his successors, once in control of Damascus and full of proclamations about breaking free from foreign patrons, have found themselves drawn into new alliances. Turkey’s role in installing Al-Sharaa was hardly subtle. Now, it is the US that charts Syria’s new course. And Israel, ever watchful, stands ready to reap the harvest of Washington’s plans as the region is redrawn—again—to suit the ambitions of those with the power to redraw it.